


i'm not gonna write you a love song

by yesterday



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, M/M, Minor Violence, Porn With Plot, Romantic Comedy, Slow-ish burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:01:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4307808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yesterday/pseuds/yesterday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We're all going to die," he mutters under his breath, eyes squeezing together. "I hate planes, I'm never getting on one again, this is the <i>worst</i>."</p><p>There's a loud snort from beside him. Aoba opens his eyes a fraction, sliding a sidelong glance to the guy in the seat beside him. He hadn't said a word to him since boarding, and Aoba hadn't struck up a conversation out of flying anxiety. Besides, he looks like trouble with all those piercings everywhere on his face-- how did he manage to get through airport security like that? </p><p>"What?" he snaps, half grateful to for a distraction and half irritated at being laughed at. </p><p>"It won't crash," says the stranger, fingers tapping at the keys of the sleek laptop resting on the fold-out table in front of him. He isn't even looking at Aoba, completely focused as he is on the screen. </p><p>"How do you know? We're sitting here in a giant hunk of metal hurtling through the sky that could crash at any time, and in case you didn't notice, <i>humans can't fly.</i>"</p><p> <br/>In which singing sensation Aoba and young genius entrepreneur Noiz collide at 30 000 feet in the sky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Take Off

" _Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned on the fasten seat belt sign. We are now crossing a zone of turbulence. Please return to your seats and keep your seat belts fastened. Thank you."_

Immediately following the announcement, the plane abruptly dips, and Aoba's heart plummets to his stomach with it. Leather creaks beneath his fingers as his grip on the seat arm tightens, and he shuts his eyes. Breathes in once-- deeply, through his nose. And then out. His knuckles are white and his nails are leaving crescent shaped grooves in the fabric. It's going to be fine. Planes hit turbulence all the time, no big deal. 

The Boeing 707 shakes again; there's a _clink_ and _crash_ of cutlery and plates sliding off trays and a couple people shriek as Aoba groans quietly. 

"We're all going to die," he mutters under his breath, eyes squeezing together. "I hate planes, I'm never getting on one again, this is the _worst_."

There's a loud snort from beside him. Aoba opens his eyes a fraction, sliding a sidelong glance to the guy in the seat beside him. He hadn't said a word to him since boarding, and Aoba hadn't struck up a conversation out of flying anxiety. Besides, he looks like trouble with all those piercings everywhere on his face-- how did he manage to get through airport security like that? 

"What?" he snaps, half grateful to for a distraction and half irritated at being laughed at. 

"It won't crash," says the stranger, fingers tapping at the keys of the sleek laptop resting on the fold-out table in front of him. He isn't even looking at Aoba, completely focused as he is on the screen. 

"How do you know? We're sitting here in a giant hunk of metal hurtling through the sky that could crash at any time, and in case you didn't notice, _humans can't fly._ "

"Really," is the dry reply. "I never noticed. Maybe that's why they made this giant hunk of metal designed for flying." 

Aoba's hackles rise, and he twists in his seat without relinquishing his death grip to really _look_ at the guy who he's mentally dubbing _asshole_ in his head. He's young, probably around Aoba's age. Blonde, and his face is all sharp angles. He's wearing one of the weirdest, most eye-catching ensemble of clothes Aoba has ever seen, the smiley faced pin with blood dripping from its teeth the icing on the cake. Maybe it's comfortable, who knows? Looks foreign. Aoba can't figure out why he's flying to where he is, or why he's bothering Aoba now when he's been perfectly content to ignore him so far. But more importantly... "Accidents happen! Aren't you worried at all?"

"No." Another bout of turbulence, stronger than the last, nearly sends the laptop flying and provokes another dismayed squawk from Aoba, who digs his heels vehemently into the floor and shuts his eyes again. There's a faint click- Aoba's seat buddy shuts his laptop and stows it into his bag. "Why should I be?" 

"...you're lying." Aoba accuses, trying to gauge whether or not it's bravado speaking. He can't read anything past the blank slate of the guy's face though, which is annoying. "And because, because-- we could die!" 

"So?" 

"So... what do you mean, _so_?" Gaping at the guy, Aoba continues. "I mean, who's going to look after my dog if something happens to me? You too. There's probably people who'll miss you."

The guy makes an irritated hiss of noise that escapes from between his teeth. He slides the plastic cover that exposed the view of the sky downwards, shutting out the masses of grey cloud surround them, rain pelting the window. "There aren't." 

Surprise gets the better of him, the words slip out before he can stop them. "Well, I think it'd suck if you died from a horrible plane crash."

There's an awkward, prolonged pause. Trust him and his big mouth to lead him into uncomfortable territory and even worse, at 30 000 feet in the air where there is an indeterminate amount of time left to be spent next to a stranger whom you may have possibly just offended irreparably. Aoba's about to apologise when said stranger beats him to it. 

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"You don't even know me," he says, a faint frown marring his features. 

"...that's true, but," says Aoba, fumbling, "I wouldn't want anyone to die, even someone I don't know. Isn't that normal? Plus since we're both on a plane right now, that means I'd probably go down too, and I definitely don't--"

Somewhere in the middle of his ramble, the guy suddenly leans over the armrest that divides them, grabbing Aoba's face, thumb pressing against his cheek. His eyelashes are dense and long and fair, and up close, his eyes are even more aggressively green. Aoba forgets to breathe. 

"H-hey--" is all he gets in before he's kissed. 

It's a soft brush of the lips, warm and light and Aoba freezes, the gears in his brain whirring and struggling to process this bizarre series of events before everything _clicks_ , and he yanks himself away from this stranger. The stranger who is rapidly becoming a perfect example of stranger danger, except as usual, Aoba had been too open. 

Face scarlet, he flattens himself against the edge of his seat, as close to the aisle as he can possibly get without physically being in it. "What the hell are you doing?!" he barks out indignantly.

All that gets him in return is an _isn't it obvious?_ look, and a bland, even answer. "Kissing you." 

"No, I know that, I mean _why_?" 

"Felt like it." 

"You felt like it?! Just what planet are you from?" This is unbelievable. 

No reply. They stare each other down, Aoba's hackles rising and the guy looking perfectly unruffled, like he didn't just molest an innocent, unsuspecting bystander. Finally, the sound of the seatbelt sign turning off breaks the uncomfortable silence, followed by the usual announcement. Flight attendants begin to move down the aisles again, passengers settling back down and parents soothing their children. 

"...looks like we're still here," says the stranger, reaching down to pull his laptop back out of its bag. 

"You..." What was that? A distraction? He'd completely forgotten about the turbulence during the past ten minutes thanks to this guy, but he can't tell if he did it on purpose. Sighing irritably through his nose, Aoba flags down a flight attendant and makes a request for a drink. By the time he's done, the guy's absorbed in whatever he's doing again. He interrupts him. "What's your name?"

"Shouldn't you tell me yours first?" is the only reply. 

"Ah, right." Aoba mumbles. "I'm Aoba."

"...Noiz." The guy-- no, Noiz anwers, and Aoba almost feels bad for distracting him from what has to be riveting and important work on his laptop. Or he would if he hadn't kissed him out of the blue and is now pretending he didn't do anything. Part of him is vindictively pleased.

"So what are you going to Midorijima for? Vacation?" It's late spring, verging on summer. The beaches are perfect at this time of year, if a little crowded. 

Noiz seems reluctant to break away from his laptop, but Aoba figures if he really didn't want to be bothered, he would just ignore him. "Not really. Why do you care?"

"'cause I'm local. And you're traveling alone, right? So I thought maybe you could use some tips." Noiz's stare causes him to falter briefly. "Like where the best places to eat are, and stuff." 

The mention of food has Noiz perking up visibly for a fleeting moment, before his expression goes blank again. "Why?"

Aoba's beginning to think that every single bone in Noiz's body is suspicious. "What do you mean, why? I'm offering because I want to. And... since you did me a favour back there by distracting me." 

"...I want pizza. Or pasta."

"Pizza or pasta?" A startled laugh escapes him. "Okay, I can think of a couple places. Let's see... where are you staying?"

"Downtown," Noiz says. 

"Perfect. Give me a second." Pulling out a scrap of paper and a pen from the seat pocket in front of him, Aoba sets down the tray and draws a squiggly map of downtown Midorijima, complete with a series of smiley faces and one star over a few He hands it to Noiz. "Here. And the star is a great bar I know-- tell them you know me."

Noiz accepts the map, examining it briefly and then shoving it into his pocket. 

"Oh- I'll give you my number, so if you can't find it, text me."

Holding up his Coil, Aoba waits for Noiz to do the same. His own version is a chunky, wristwatch type-- it's deliberately retro, and his favourite colour. Noiz's is a thick studded cuff. The information finishes sending, and Aoba double taps the hologram to make sure everything went through correctly. 

"Pretty weird," comments Noiz, and Aoba flashes him a questioning look. "Giving me your number after freaking out over a kiss."

Aoba sputters incoherently, and then gathers himself. "I'm just trying to be friendly!"

A faint smirk curves Noiz's mouth. "How friendly?"

"Nobody's forcing you to text me!"

The remainder of the flight passes by in a companionable, interrupted only by Aoba's brief, nosy questions to Noiz, who chooses to answer them sometimes. Before long, Aoba drifts off to sleep. 

When he wakes up, the plane is landing on the tarmac with a rumble, coming to a slow, winding halt. Aoba jams his baseball cap on his head, shuffling past Noiz, their shoulders bumping as he grabs his bag from the overhead compartment. Noiz slants him a sidelong glance.

"Looks like we'll live another day," he says.

Grumbling, Aoba makes a face at him and shakes his head. "Yeah, yeah. I didn't _really_ think we were gonna crash." 

Noiz snorts. "Liar." 

"Really--!" Aoba insists, as they begin to shuffle forward, exiting the plane. He's kind of surprised that Noiz chose to keep talking to him, even if it's to make fun of him. 

"Hmmm," Noiz hums, his tone entirely disbelieving. "Right." 

They reach the baggage claim area, standing close to one another as they wait for their bags to arrive. Aoba is peering intently at the carousel when Noiz speaks again. 

"The bar. Are you going to be there later?"

Just then, Aoba's suitcase comes around and he darts forward, hauling it up from the conveyor belt. He sets his duffel bag on top of it, and then turns around, staring at Noiz. Did he hear him right? 

"I could stop by," he says slowly. "If you want me to." 

"Yeah," says Noiz, his eyes sliding off to the side. Aoba pulls up the handle of his suitcase, mouth suddenly dry. The silence drags on between them before Aoba recuperates.

"Then that settles it. I'm gonna go ahead, but I'll let you know when I head out. So... see you soon, I guess."

Noiz graces him with a lift of his chin that Aoba takes to be an agreement. Fully aware that he's grinning stupidly, Aoba takes off towards customs, luggage in tow. Looking over his shoulder halfway down the hall, he spots Noiz, who's still turned in his direction. Aoba waves at him one final time.  
  
  


\---

 

Outside in the arrival area, a low murmur ripples through the crowd as Aoba steps out. He ducks his head in embarrassment before raising it to grin at the crowd, to waves and camera flashes. Thankfully, the cluster of people seem to be normal citizens rather than dedicated fans, but he'll never get used to it, he thinks.

Now where is his ride? 

Scanning the crowd, Aoba finally spots a familiar figure. It's Koujaku, looking relaxed in a red button down and slacks, his long hair neatly coiled over his shoulder. He spots Aoba, and lifts his hand in a languid wave, easing the crush of people aside with friendly smiles all around. Aoba manages to make his way to him relatively quickly.

"Koujaku! Thanks for coming," Aoba says, and Koujaku takes him by the elbow, steering him towards the parkade quickly. 

"It's my pleasure," Koujaku says, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles. "How could I leave you to fend for yourself with all these adoring fans?" 

Aoba flushes, and glances behind him with a nervous laugh. "Good thing I didn't announce that I was coming back to Midorijima publicly."

"You're getting popular," Koujaku teases. They reach his car and load it up, Aoba hopping into the passenger seat after slamming the trunk closed. As they pull out of the parking lot, Koujaku asks how his flight was, and Aoba offhandedly mentions his plans to meet up with his new acquaintance later.

"You... you really are something, Aoba." Koujaku sighs, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "Isn't there a limit to how friendly you can be?"

"Not you too," Aoba groans, reclining back in his seat dramatically. "He didn't seem like a bad guy." 

"How can you tell after one conversation? I don't think it's a good idea for you to go meet up with him, Aoba. Can't you rearrange it to a day where I'm free?" 

"Relax, Koujaku. We're just meeting up at the bar, and he seemed more interested in food than anything. He probably just wants someone to show him around, and I have no idea how long he's staying for. Okay, _dad_?" 

The light turns red, and Koujaku glances over at Aoba. "I know you're not a kid anymore... but old habits die hard." 

Aoba glances at him, raising his sunglasses and resting them on top of his head. His face relaxes into a soft smile. "Yeah. I'll be careful, so don't worry. You'll get more wrinkles." 

"Oi, what's that supposed to mean? What do you mean, more?" 

A car horn sounds from behind them; the light's changed. Koujaku swears, and presses on the gas pedal.

"I'm kidding! You look great for your age." 

"Aoba..." 

"Anyway, if anything happens, I'll call you." laughs Aoba, "Besides, it's not like I'm going to get completely smashed." 

Famous last words.  
  
  


\---

 

The Black Needle isn't particularly busy; Aoba attributes this to it being a Tuesday and not a weekend, which is when the bar really livens up. But this suits him fine. It gives the place a more relaxed atmosphere, and he can relax and enjoy himself. He got here early, a quick scan around shows him that Noiz wasn't here yet.

"Yo, Aoba! Long time no see." Mizuki greets him as he slides onto a bar stool, a drink in hand. "Finally back from your tour, huh?"

"I just landed earlier today, actually," Aoba says, propping his elbows up on the counter. "How've you been?" 

"You know, the usual. Though things have been pretty quiet around here without you. Are you planning on sticking around for a while?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm back in town for. Sei's got a new project coming up that I'm helping out with-- it's gonna be great! Ah, technically I'm not supposed to tell anyone about it, so..." 

Mizuki laughs and mimes zipping his mouth shut, tossing the key over his shoulder. "My lips are sealed. Except you didn't come by just to tell me that, did you?" 

"Come on, maybe I missed seeing your face." Aoba laughs, grinning sheepishly. "But you're right. I'm meeting up with someone here."

Mizuki raises his eyebrows, whistling. "You've got a hot date and you're bringing them here? I'm flattered." 

"It's not a _date_ ," Aoba groans, frowning at Mizuki. "I started talking with this guy on the plane, and it turns out he isn't local, so I offered to show him around."

"The infamous Seragaki charm strikes again," says Mizuki.

"What are you talking about?" Rolling his eyes, Aoba adds, "That's _Koujaku_ , not me-- oh!"

Someone drops into the seat next to him, Aoba turning automatically. It's Noiz, and he greets him cheerfully. 

"You made it! I was worried you'd get lost." 

Noiz gazes at Aoba blankly, and then at Mizuki, seemingly reluctant to open his mouth. Finally, he says, "You gave me the address. Why would I get lost?"

"Midorijima can be kinda hard to get around in, that's all." 

"That, and Aoba's got a shit sense of direction, so he's always getting lost," Mizuki cuts in with a grin, and Aoba shoots him a glare. 

"This guy who's _supposed_ to be my friend is Mizuki. He owns the place." Mizuki raises his hand in a lazy salute, and Noiz nods back at him, the crease between his brows fading. 

"Wanna get a couple of drinks to start, then?"

Aoba glances at Noiz, who gives absolutely no indication of what he prefers. Maybe the best way to go is to get as much alcohol in both of them as possible without getting completely shit-faced. He nods at Mizuki. "Sure, bring us your special. It's on me."

"Roger that," Mizuki says, sauntering down the bar to fetch his supplies. 

Swiveling on the stool, Aoba faces Noiz. He's dressed in such a similar colour scheme to what he'd been wearing earlier that Aoba doesn't notice until now that he's changed into a more normal set of clothing than earlier. A simple black and green cardigan over a black shirt, and practically identical pants to the ones he was wearing earlier. The hat remains perched on his head, pin at a jaunty angle. Aoba recognises his Coil from earlier. 

"Like what you see?" says Noiz, interrupting Aoba's not-so-subtle once over of him. Aoba jolts guiltily in his seat, and scrambles for a reply.

"I was just wondering if there's some kind of story behind all of that." Aoba gestures vaguely at Noiz. "The piercings."

"Felt like it." 

"You felt like--" The answer is strangely familiar, and Aoba snaps his mouth shut when he realises where he heard that particular phrase come from Noiz's mouth before. From the tiny smirk playing on Noiz's mouth, he realised Aoba realised it too. Taking a deep breath, Aoba mutters, "Right, you got a bunch of piercings 'cause you felt like it. Totally normal." 

"Not as weird as picking someone up on a plane," Noiz drawls out. 

"I didn't pick you up!!" 

"You gave me your number," says Noiz pointedly. "Why are you arguing about it?" 

"Because-- because- that was out of the goodness of my heart, but now I'm regretting it!" Throwing himself down on the bar counter dramatically, Aoba buries his head in his arms, until he hears a sound he doesn't even recognise at first. It's a quiet _heh_ , followed by a chuckle so brief Aoba almost misses it.

He whips his head up, wide-eyed. "You laughed! I was starting to think you didn't know how to, or something."

Noiz's mouth twists mulishly, and he says sullenly, "Did not."

"Did too," Aoba insists. 

"Not." 

"Yes you did! I heard you!"

"Shut up," grumbles Noiz, and it's probably better that they're interrupted before Aoba can crow victoriously. Mizuki reappears, setting down two drinks in front of them with a quick _enjoy_ before heading off to entertain a sudden flood of customers. Aoba is the first to go for his glass, taking a long sip. The drink hits his tongue, sweet and citrusy followed by the faintest, barely there burn of alcohol.

Setting it back down, Aoba notices Noiz watching him. "What?"

"...what's in this." Noiz asks, staring at the blue liquid. 

"Mizuki calls it the house special. I think it's mostly pineapple juice and lemonade and alcohol. It doesn't taste like it, but it's pretty strong." 

After a further ten seconds of contemplating the drink, Noiz whisks it up to his mouth. His expression barely changes. "Sweet." 

And then his mouth twists up, his eyebrows furrowing together ever so slightly in what Aoba can only guess to be confusion. "Sour?" 

Laughing, Aoba nods. "Yeah, Mizuki said he wanted it to have a kick at the end. Something about how it reminded him of me, or whatever."

The ice clinks in Noiz's glass as he raises it again rather than deign to reply, taking a longer sip. Aoba follows suit, and for a minute, they lapse into silence.

"So, how long are you here for?" Aoba asks, when a pleasant warmth has begun to pervade all of his limbs. 

"A while," Noiz says noncommittally, his knee nudging against Aoba's. 

Propping his elbow up on the bar top, he rests his chin on the back of his hand, tilting his head at Noiz. "That's specific. Okay then, what're you here for? You said it wasn't vacation, right?" 

"Business."

Blinking at him, Aoba waits for an answer that isn't coming, and he prompts Noiz further, "What kind of business?" 

Noiz shakes his head at him, dead-panning, "Can't say." 

"All right, Mister Secretive, give me something to work with here." Grasping for straws, Aoba struggles to remember what he'd asked Noiz about on the plane. Where Noiz was from, what his favourite movie was, which meal did he get in flight, what kind of Allmate he had... come to think of, he asked him a lot of random questions, didn't he? 

Straightening, Aoba says tentatively, "You said you liked playing games."

"Yeah." 

"Handheld? PC?" 

"...all of them." 

"Then you must be pretty good at them," Aoba muses. "Too bad there aren't any consoles here, or we could play." 

"There are a lot of arcades around here," Noiz says.

"Yeah, everyone on the island likes their games. Not just arcade ones, but that's what really popular right now. Video games." 

And then, because Noiz looks the most interested Aoba has seen him all evening, he impulsively offers, "If you want, we can go together while you're still in town." 

Noiz blinks, and he glances down at his glass, then up to Aoba, and down again. "...okay." 

The rest of the evening passes with surprising ease, and by the time Aoba's had another drink and tries to stand up and wobbles. Noiz catches him by the shoulder, and they both stumble back a few steps. 

"Sorry," Aoba mutters. "I think that last drink was a bad idea." 

Noiz doesn't say anything. He's about to suggest that they go outside for some fresh air, maybe hit up an izakaya or two for food, since he's starting to get kind of hungry, then Aoba's eyes focus and he catches the faint flush of pink on Noiz's cheeks. 

"Are you drunk?"

"No," Noiz says instantly. 

"You're lying again!" Squinting at him, Aoba proceeds to back up several feet away from Noiz, standing with his hands on his hips. "Walk over here." 

Opening his mouth like he wants to protest, Noiz narrows his eyes at Aoba, and then places one foot in front of him deliberately. And then the other. And one more, weaving a wobbly, though on course line towards Aoba. Once he reaches him, he wavers and then slumps against Aoba. 

"Oh," says Aoba. "Oh, you are _so_ drunk. I should've figured you were a light-weight." 

"'m not." His face is pressed into Aoba's shoulder, muffling his words. A heavy sigh leaves him, and the words grind out from between his teeth in the most reluctant manner that Aoba's ever heard anyone speak in. "...forgot. To eat." 

"You didn't eat eat beforehand?!" Groaning, Aoba slings Noiz's arm over his shoulder. "Where are you staying? I'll get you a cab, you better go back and sleep it off."

Again, and not for the first time tonight, silence greets him. Except this time, it's because Noiz has passed out or fallen asleep, suddenly dead weight slung across Aoba. His head lolls forward on his shoulders, hat sliding off. Aoba grabs it just in time, and then staggers. 

"Mizuki! Hey, call me a cab, will you?"  
  
  


\---

 

Somehow or the other, between himself and Mizuki, they manage to wrangle Noiz into the backseat of a taxi, Aoba hopping in beside him. Giving the driver directions to his place, he figures he might as well take Noiz back with him, since he couldn't just leave him there in good conscious.

By the time they reach his apartment, Noiz is half awake but silent, blinking blearily at the streetlights and obediently following after Aoba as he half walks, half drags Noiz to his door. Aoba manages to get his door open somehow, and he's immediately greeted by Ren. 

"Aoba."

"Ah, hey Ren!" Grunting, he hauls Noiz across the threshold. "Noiz, if you're awake, at least walk!"

"Your dog is an Allmate," Noiz says instead, and then pauses, frowning down at Ren and correcting himself. "Your Allmate is the dog." 

"Huh? What're you talking about?" 

But the weight lifts from his shoulders, Noiz straightening up and staring at Aoba, features half-obscured by darkness. Aoba hasn't had a chance to turn the lights on, and when he goes for the switch, Noiz grabs him by the wrist. Dragging his hand upwards from wrist, to forearm, he stops when he reaches Aoba's shoulder, tugging him forward and crushing their mouths together. 

For a moment, Aoba is too stunned to do anything, and Noiz takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into his mouth. Something hard strokes along the roof of his mouth, and Aoba realises that Noiz has a fucking tongue piercing, of course he does, and he tastes like just like alcohol. With a muffled noise of protest, Aoba yanks away a split second later, pushing Noiz from him. "All right, no more funny business! No more kissing, no more of-- whatever it is you're trying to pull here."

"Isn't this why you brought me back here?" Noiz sounds genuinely confused, and Aoba gapes at him. 

"I brought you back here because you passed out at the bar, or else I would've sent you back to your hotel. And you're drunk."

"...not."

"Be quiet," Aoba says, seizing Noiz by the hand and flicking on the light with the other. Leading Noiz as authoratatively as he used to lead Sei, he drags him down the hall, into his room, and propels him right into his bed. Noiz's mouth curls up at the corners. 

"Pushing me into bed? Pretty bold," he remarks, palms splayed out on Aoba's bedspread. His face is still flushed, and Aoba's warms to match it. 

"Drunks shouldn't talk," Aoba warns, leaning down to tug Noiz's shoes off. "All right, the bathroom's that door over there, _not_ the one closest to the window. That's my closet and if you puke in there, I'll never forgive you." 

He hesitates, staring down at Noiz, who slowly sinks down into the mattress and curls up in a loose ball on top of the covers. The dumb hat has fallen off his head, and his eyes are shut. Asleep again? 

"Jeez..." What a handful. Aoba hadn't bargained for that, but he's pretty sure his grandmother and Koujaku and everyone else in his life would say it was his fault for getting into this in the first place. Shaking his head, Aoba pulls up the covers around Noiz, bundling him into a rough cocoon. Hesitating, he snatches up the hat too and sets it on the bedstand. 

Even asleep, Noiz's expression remains the same. 

Ren wags his tail beside him. "Your alcohol levels are high, Aoba. I suggest drinking water and then going to bed as soon as possible."

Kneeling down, Aoba pats him on the head. "Yeah, I'm going." 

Shuffling out of the room quietly, Aoba turns the light off after him. Before closing the door, he glances at Noiz's prone form-- a dark lump on his bed- and then shuts the door. 

"Guess I'll crash on the couch tonight."  
  
  


\---

 

"Aoba. Wake up, Aoba."

"Mmm... five more minutes."

"Aoba, you've exceeded your allocated lie-in time by twenty-five minutes."

Rolling over groggily, Aoba grabs Ren, who's been jumping on him in a valiant attempt to wake him up. He squeezes him, burying his face in Ren's thick fur. 

"Aoba." Ren whines, nuding at Aoba's chin. "You will be late if you do not wake up."

"Late?"

Jolting upright, Aoba glances at his Coil and yelps in dismay. "Shit!"

Nearly falling off the couch in his mad scramble to get up, he sends the duvet draped over him into a heap on the floor. "Thanks, Ren. Ah, this is bad, what was I thinking?"

It'd completely slipped his mind yesterday that he had an appointment today, what with having to drag Noiz back here. 

Oh. 

Noiz. 

Gently opening the door to his room, Aoba is greeted by a neatly made bed (duvet free) and no sign that Noiz or anyone else was ever here. His breath leaves him in one long whoosh, and Aoba shrugs to himself. Noiz must've left before he woke up. But he'll worry about him later. First things first, it's time for him to get going.

After washing his face and brushing his teeth at the speed of light, Aoba yanks on his clothes. Passing the kitchen on the way to the foyer, his eyes fall on the now empty glass of water he left out for Noiz last night on the counter. Hopefully Noiz is doing better than he is this morning. He hastily pulls on his shoes, jamming a baseball cap on his head and tucking his hair beneath it. 

Calling out for Ren, together they dash out the front door. 

Outside, Midorijima has already woken up. With its warm climate and beaches, it's a popular tourist spot, as well as its thriving entertainment scene. The sidewalks are full of people moving to and fro, a bus rumbling as it waits at a stop light beside several mopeds. 

Aoba prefers to walk generally, but it's days like there where he starts considering getting a set of wheels. 

"Ren, do you think it'd be faster to catch a taxi?" He's weaving through the crowd as fast as he can.

"At your current sped, you should reach your destination in ten minutes. Currently, there are no taxis in the vicinity."

"Guess that answers it." Picking up his speed, Aoba begins to half jog, half walk briskly down the street. 

A little less than seven minutes later finds Aoba out of breath in front of a tall, sleek building. The glass doors slide open automatically in front of him. Once in the elevator, Aoba pulls his cap off, smoothing down his hair and then twisting it up into a high ponytail. He scoops Ren up and puts him in his bag. 

_Ding._

Stepping out, Aoba hurries down the hall, rounding the corner and yanking himself to a halt just before he collides with a slender, dark haired figure. 

"Sei!" 

Sei smiles at him, cocking his head to one side. He tucks his hair behind his ear. "You made it, Aoba." 

"Sorry, sorry. I know I'm a little late. Did you start already?"

Sei shakes his head and then gathers Aoba into a hug, squeezing him tightly. "Not yet. I was about to call you."

Aoba relaxes, returning the hug. "You could've started without me."

"And leave out my cute little brother?" Sei laughs, pressing his cheek to Aoab's fondly. "I missed you." 

"I missed you too, Sei," Aoba says. A few more seconds pass by, Aoba selfishly clinging to Sei for a little longer than he should under the circumstances. And then he pulls away, clapping him on the shoulders. "It's a meet and greet today, right? With some of the people we're working with on your new game?"

"Yes," says Sei, opening the door he exited from earlier. Aoba trails after him. Luckily, Sei's never been big on formal attire, so he doesn't feel too out of place next to him in a t-shirt and jeans, even in a conference room. The majority of the people present are dressed casually too.

"Hello everyone." The murmur in the room dies down, everyone's attention focusing on Sei. "Thank you for waiting. I'll begin the introductions now. This is Aoba, singer and songwriter, who will be teaming up with us to compose and arrange the sound track for the game."

Aoba lifts his hand in greeting, ducking his head. Sei gives him a little shove. Taking the hint, Aoba quickly scoots into the room to take a seat, but freezes just before he sits. 

"And of course, I'm sure you're all familiar with Usagimodoki, one of the world's leading video game companies. Silent Oath will be collaborating with them on this project, and we will have the pleasure of working directly with the president and game designer himself."

The tension in the room is palpable, and Aoba can feel his pulse racing in his ears.

Sei continues with a brilliant smile. "Please, say hello to Noiz."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to write a slow love story about noiao but i really don't know where i'm going with this (I'LL FIGURE IT OUT EVENTUALLY)


	2. Climb

"Oi, Noiz!"

Aoba corners Noiz after the meeting, falling in step beside him as everyone files out from the room. Noiz's eyes flick towards him, and the only other sign that he notices Aoba the total five degrees he turns his head to the side.

"Why didn't you _tell_ me you were- you're--" Unable to finish his sentence, Aoba settles for huffing and staring expectantly at Noiz instead.

"I'm what?" The deadpan of Noiz's voice ticks him off, and Aoba scowls at him.

"You know what I'm talking about. The whole Usagimodoki thing!" 

Noiz shrugs, and levels his gaze at Aoba. "You didn't say anything about being famous either." 

Faltering, Aoba realises Noiz is right. Neither of them had talked about what they did for a living, and at the time, Aoba found it refreshing. To carry on a conversation that didn't revolve around jobs, mortgages, plans for the future and so on. Plus he doesn't make a habit of it, specifically mentioning who he is and what his achievements are- it's too much like bragging. No, it _is_ bragging. 

Grudgingly, he says, "...yeah. Because it'd be awkward, right? Sorry."

A furrow appears between Noiz's brows, and he looks away. "I thought you knew already."

Aoba waves his hand dismissively. "It's fine, it doesn't matter. Talk about coincidence though, huh? How are you feeling, by the way?"

"Are you not feeling well, Noiz?" Sei slides into the conversation, looping his arm through Aoba's and tipping his head forward, looking at both Noiz and Aoba with a smile. Grinning back at Sei, Aoba laughs. Noiz's mouth purses, curving downwards in a sulky manner that's almost cute, Aoba thinks. No, it _is_ cute. How he knows what's coming but doesn't do anything to stop Aoba.

"Someone here had a little too much to drink last night at the bar," Aoba teases. "I'm surprised you even made it here before me." 

"I don't get them. Hangovers." Noiz jams his hands into his pockets, and then suddenly adds, "You're brothers." 

"When did you two meet?" Sei asks.

At the same time Aoba exclaims, "You can tell?"

There's a lull in the conversation before Aoba explains how they met on the plane to Sei, skimming over a couple particular details, but adding in that he'd offered to show Noiz around Midorijima.

Covering his mouth, Sei chortles, delighted. "Thank you then, Noiz, for distracting Aoba. He isn't the best when it comes to flying on planes. And yes, we're twins." 

"It was nothing," says Noiz, and Aoba grows uncomfortably aware that he's making a study out of Aoba's face, glancing back and forth between himself and Sei before settling on Aoba. His eyes trace across Aoba's face, lingering at the curve of his jaw and then traveling back up. "Your hair is different, but your facial structure is the same."

"Hmmm," Aoba says, impressed despite himself. "Not bad. That's right. People usually get thrown off by the hair." 

"Noiz is the first person to notice so quickly, isn't he, Aoba?" A beep sounds from Sei's Coil, and he untwines his arm from Aoba's to check it, closing it after a moment. "I'm sorry, Aoba, Noiz. There's something I need to take care of- Aoba, could you show Noiz around a bit if he wants to see the rest of the studio?" 

"Sure, no problem." 

Noiz nods, and Sei smiles gratefully. "I'm looking forward to working with both of you on the new game." 

And with that, he strides towards the elevator, popping his Coil open. Aoba watches his back as he goes, mouth curled into a soft smile, Noiz's presence forgotten for the moment. Both him and Sei are busy these days, but it's good to see him moving around energetically. And plus with the project collaboration, they'd be seeing each other more frequently.

Once Sei disappears behind the elevator doors, Aoba turns his attention back to Noiz, raising his eyebrows. Beyond knowing bits and pieces about Noiz, he doesn't have a clue as to what he would want to see, or if he wants to see anything at all. But since Sei asked him to show Noiz around, he'll give it his best shot. And it'll give him a chance to talk with Noiz again.

"So... where do you wanna start? If there's anything you really wanna see, you should tell me. I've got VIP access and all that good stuff."

Noiz doesn't answer, stopping in the middle of the corridor. The hall is empty except for the two of them, clear of anyone else from the earlier meeting and other foot traffic. Sei seldom uses this floor, Aoba recalls. Pivoting on one foot, Noiz turns to Aoba, forcing himself just a bit too close inside Aoba's personal space bubble. Aoba steps back to compensate. Noiz advances, and Aoba draws himself up to his full height, holding his ground. 

There's barely a centimeter of height difference between them, and Aoba recalls the the shadows on Noiz's face back in the dark of his room, valleys created by the streetlight filtering in through his windows as they hold their stand off.

"Last night," Noiz says after a few seconds, "I don't get it. Why did you do that?"

Whatever Aoba had been expecting Noiz to say, it wasn't that. In fact, the change in track is so abrupt that his train of thought screeches to a halt, engine smoking. He gapes blankly at Noiz, who frowns back at him without further elaboration. 

"Why did I... get you drunk?" 

"No." He looks annoyed, and Aoba doesn't get it, he really doesn't. Was he mad that he took care of him after? "Why did you take me to your apartment after that."

"Was I supposed to leave you at the bar? I don't think Mizuki would have appreciated that..." But Aoba is remembering something, a question demanded last night that he initially put off to Noiz being drunk. "You know not everyone does something for someone else just 'cause they want something out of it, right?"

"Don't they?" says Noiz, and Aoba hears, _don't you?_

Shaking his head, he corrects Noiz, "That'd be messed up. I brought you back to my place because I didn't want anything to happen to you, especially since you don't know the area."

"Nothing happened." 

"Nothing happened because you passed out on my bed," corrects Aoba, trying to read Noiz's expression and failing. He really _is_ upset because Aoba brought him home.

Noiz brings his face closer than appropriate to Aoba, the exhale of his breath ghosting across his lips, and Aoba's eyes widen. "Did you want something to happen?"

Losing his patience entirely, Aoba shoves Noiz backwards. Noiz stumbles, but doesn't fall. Aoba immediately regrets it after-- not enough to stop himself from chastising Noiz like a child, however. "No!! I barely even know you! Just- just knock it off already, whatever you're trying to do. It isn't funny."

Part of Aoba's pleased to see the irateness spread across from Noiz's previously stoic mask, and then just as quickly, it vanishes. 

He says, "Fine."

Aoba snaps back, "Fine!"

"Rhyme."

"Fi-- what?"

"Rhyme," repeats Noiz. "Can you play it here?" 

"Well..." Aoba says slowly, trying to gather his thoughts again from the smoking wreckage that remains of thie tracks this conversation took. "Rhyme was the first game Sei ever made. There were a lot of glitches and stuff."

"That's why it was pulled out of production." It's crazy how fast Noiz recovers, Aoba thinks, and he's clearly smart, but totally inept when it comes to social niceties. But that's a common trend with people in this line of work, isn't it? From what he's seen of Sei's coworkers. 

"Right. That, and..." The huge mess it created, but Aoba decides against talking about it. Leading Noiz down the hall, they head back towards the elevator. "Did you ever play it?"

"For a while," Noiz answers. "It got discontinued before I could play more." 

Annoyance is evident in his voice, and Aoba can't help but laugh. "You liked it, huh?"

"The concept of it wasn't anything new," says Noiz with a shrug. "But the mechanics made it interesting."

"Oh, the virtual reality tech? Yeah, whenever I think back to it, I remember how cool it was again."

Unable to resist pausing in silence for the sake of dramatics, Aoba revels in the impatience on Noiz's face for a beat longer than appropriate before he adds, "Since you guys were planning to use parts of it in the new game, the field can be set up." 

The door they stop in front of is at the end of the hall, and Aoba can see Noiz's eyes widening, his posture straightening as he takes his hands out of his pocket. Grinning at him, Aoba pushes the door open, standing aside to let Noiz in first. 

The room opens into a wide open space, empty apart from a single computer and desk off to the side. Aoba heads up to it, sitting down and booting the machine up. It whirs to life, and before long, a configuration screen pops appears. Typing, Aoba glances over his shoulder only to find Noiz peering over it. 

He pauses, and then asks, "Do you have your Allmate on you?"

Noiz nods, plucking a green cube from its identical buddies linked on his belt. 

"Okay, good. You probably know this already, but you need to have an Allmate to play Rhyme, because of their bio-metrics software."

"...Rhyme stimulates the brain and manipulates it into seeing the field. Your Allmate is the connection that facilitates it, in this case," Noiz adds. Aoba blinks at him in surprise. 

"Yeah, you put it better than I could've. The field's created by sending out a signal that goes through the network and your Allmate and you, basically. So it's all in your head, but at the same time, it's projected outwards for the spectators, if there are any."

"You know a lot about it." 

Swiveling on the chair he's sitting on and letting the program run its course, he grins at Noiz. "Surprised? I'm not as good as Sei is with this kind of thing, but I used to help him with it. It was like a hobby." 

He scoots the chair off to the side, giving himself enough space to open his bag up and take Ren out of it, continuing his explanation. "When Rhyme was running, Sei created a separate network for the data to exist. Obviously, it doesn't exist anymore... anywhere except for inside this room, that is." 

Ren wakes up at a touch to his forehead, and Aoba smiles down at him. When he turns back to Noiz, Noiz is holding his Allmate (a green and black cube; Aoba supposes that's where Usagimodoki originated) in one hand and watching the script run on the computer screen. 

A beep signals its completion. 

Aoba sets Ren on the floor, grinning at Noiz. "Ren, activate the field."

A swooping sensation seizes his stomach as the floor drops out from underneath him. Pixels spread throughout the room, the field building itself rapidly before their eyes. It's his field, customised from back when he used to play Rhyme. White and pink tiling forms beneath their feet, several large blocks popping up on either side in the shape of two-story tall, pixelated Ren heads. Above them, a giant brain pulses with an eerie light in the hazy, sunset hued sky.

Standing beside him is Ren in online mode, and on Noiz's side... Aoba does a double take. Rabbits by the dozen surround Noiz, hopping up and down enthusiastically. Rabbits in _boxing_ gloves, and Aoba stifles his snort of laughter. Noiz himself is looking around him, taking in the field. Anyone else would've been impressed by it, but as always, Noiz is wearing the same indifferent expression on his face. 

Then he glances at Aoba, raising his voice to be heard over the excited chatter of his Allmates. "Can you play an actual game here?" 

"Well yeah, it'd be kinda pointless to just have the field without everything else working." Grin growing, Aoba cocks his head to the side. "You wanna Rhyme? I'm up for it."

Noiz's eyes light up, his bunnies falling silent and standing at attention. "Yeah." 

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Aoba claps his hands together. He turns to Ren, grinning. "Ready, Ren?"

"Affirmative," Ren replies. Aoba whirls back to Noiz, who gives him a short nod. 

His bunnies say what he doesn't, squeaky voices rising in unison. "Ready! Ready! Time to play!"

"All right," crows Aoba, stepping back a step. A buzzer sounds throughout the field. "Then let's go!"  
  
  


\---

 

Chest heaving, Aoba sways on his feet as the field dissipates around them, resting his hands above his knees in an effort to catch his breath without falling over. Coming out of Rhyme was always a little disorienting, and today is no different.

He struggles to get his words out between laboured breaths. "Jeez... you don't hold back, do you? I seriously thought I was gonna lose for a second there."

"You won," Noiz says.

Aoba looks up- Noiz turns away, but not before he catches sight of the blood dripping from Noiz's nose. There isn't any reason why that should be happening, Aoba thinks dumbly. Rhyme is all in your head, and he's frozen to the spot for another two seconds before alarm seizes him. 

"Noiz--!! You're bleeding!" Stating the obvious. Rushing forward, he seizes Noiz by the arm, forcing him to face him. A steady trickle of red drips down from Noiz's nose, and Aoba panics, patting himself down for anything to stem the flow with.

Face twisting, Noiz yanks his arm from Aoba, but Aoba hangs on stubbornly. He snaps, "Don't touch me." 

"What the hell are you going on about? Stay still, I know I've got tissues on me somewhere." Jamming his hand into his jacket pocket, Aoba retrieves a slightly crumpled packet of tissues-- the kind handed out on the streets, and thrusts it at Noiz. Noiz stares at it, and Aoba's apprehension grows. Sometimes people could have averse reactions to Rhyme, but he'd been so sure that the field here was completely safe. But the longer he stands here in front of Noiz, who's determinedly not meeting his eyes, the more he worries that something went completely wrong. 

Just before the blood rolls down from Noiz's face to his shirt, Aoba tears open the tissue packet, taking one out and gently applying it to Noiz's face. "Take it already, you're getting blood everywhere!" 

A heavy, annoyed sigh leaves Noiz. "I _said_ , don't touch me." He bats Aoba's hand away, pressing the tissue to his nose and tipping his head backwards. Aoba's hand drops to the side, and he releases Noiz's arm slowly. 

"Okay," he says, wary like one is when faced off with an injured animal. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right. That shouldn't have happened-- I don't know what happened, we made _sure_ the pain limiters were in place." 

Noiz shrugs. "Nothing hurts." 

"But your nose is bleeding, there's no way that's a good sign-- shit, should I call for an ambulance? Ren-- ah!"

His wrist is seized in a bruising grip, Noiz glaring at him past the blood-dotted kleenex. "I don't need it."

Gaping at him, Aoba shakes his head at Noiz. "You don't know that, you could've messed up something in your head." 

He thinks he must be hearing wrong, because Noiz chuckles, a dry, humourless sound that Aoba would hesitate to call a laugh. If anything, it strengthens his conviction that they definitely need to get Noiz to a hospital for a checkup. Frowning, he tugs at his arm ineffectually. "Come on, stop being stubborn already."

"I turned it off. The damage limit." Noiz pulls the tissue from his face, and Aoba would have been relieved to see that his nosebleed is slowing down if not for what Noiz said.

Aoba's face goes white, and he whispers, "You _what_?" 

"The limiter," Noiz says.

"Why would you do that? Are you crazy?" Aoba demands, finally twisting his wrist free when Noiz's grip loosens. 

Noiz doesn't answer him, and Aoba refrains from the urge to punch him right across the face, because he's still bleeding and Aoba still isn't sure he's all there. Though now that he thinks about it, clearly something wasn't there in the first place. When did he mess around with the programming? Was it when he turned to retrieve Ren? 

Trying to control the anger rising up in his throat like bile, Aoba takes a deep breath and fails. "You... that's exactly the reason why Sei stopped Rhyme in the first place! Because of people like you who were abusing the field, and pulling crazy stunts and getting hurt!" 

"Not like anything happened to you," Noiz's tone is riddled with disinterest, rising only when he adds, "But you're better than I thought you'd be." 

Aoba is shaking his head, body trembling with barely contained anger all over. "I can't believe this." 

"You didn't get hurt." 

"That's not the point!"

"Then what?" 

They stare at each other, and Aoba watches a final drop of blood slide partway down Noiz's face, to his mouth before Noiz raises a hand and wipes it away. It leaves a red smear across his face.

Finally, he says, "Get out."

Noiz opens his mouth as though to say something, and then closes it. Turning on his heel, he exits, leaving Aoba alone in the room. 

Sinking into the chair in front of the computer, Aoba shuts it off. The faint hum of the terminal dies, and Ren hops up onto his lap. Aoba runs his hand over him, petting Ren until the tension seeps from his frame, even if the mixed up jumble of thoughts don't stop turning over and over in his head.  
  
  


\---

 

Thankfully, with the game production kicking off, both Aoba and Noiz stay preoccupied with their own separate tasks. From what Aoba gleans from Sei, Noiz is leading the programming team at a breakneck pace. His own part of the project rarely collided with theirs, and as a result, he seldom runs into Noiz at the Silent Oath headquarters. Composing is something he can do either at the office, or at home, so he picks and chooses depending on his mood. And if he happens to work from home more often than not following his argument with Noiz, no one comments on it.

But he does tell Sei about what happened, one day over a few precious hours snatched together in the house where they grew up. The smell of food has drifted upwards from the kitchen throughout the rooms, leaving the air warm and smelling like home. Aoba breathes in deeply, stomach full and satisfied from the meal he'd just eaten. 

They're on the balcony of the room they once shared together, Aoba resting his arms on the railing and Sei mimicking him. For a while, their conversation sways back and forth on a variety of topics, and then eventually towards the direction of work. 

Sei listens with his head tilted to one side, eyebrows knit together in a faint frown as Aoba recounts his story. 

"...and then he had the nerve to tell me that he didn't get what the big deal was, since he only messed with the limiter on his end!" Annoyed, Aoba's face twists into a scowl at the memory. 

"Aa-h... Yes, he was asking after that," Sei says, and then clarifies. "I thought he was interested because we'll be using the technology in the game."

" _Interested_ \--" Aoba snorts. 

"What do you think of Noiz, Aoba?" interrupts Sei, propping his chin on his hands. 

"What do I think of him?" Aoba repeats, confused. Sei arches his eyebrow at him. "At first I thought he was annoying, and then I thought maybe he wasn't so bad after all, but now... I think he's hard to deal with. Weird. I don't really get him." 

Sei's peal of laughter rings out through the air, eyes squeezed shut in mirth. Scowling, Aoba nudges at Sei with his shoulder. 

"Quit laughing!! What's so funny?" 

"I'm sorry," Sei flaps his hand at Aoba. "To me, it sounds like you want to get to know him, but you're frustrated because it isn't going well. You've never been very patient, Aoba." 

"That's not true," Aoba pouts. "I'm totally patient. But right now, all I really wanna do is punch him in the face for being so-- so-" 

"Selfish? Because of what he did in Rhyme," Sei says.

Aoba winces, and drops his eyes to the street below. "Yeah." 

"I don't think it was right of him to do that, but..." Sei's voice drifts off. "From what I know of Noiz, he's very independent. He built up Usagimodoki from the ground up, without help from anyone, and his reputation is of someone who doesn't usually work well with others." 

"No kidding." 

"But Aoba, don't you think that maybe he just didn't know you would be frightened?"

"Seriously?" The skepticism is written all over his face and in his face, and Sei gives him a look.

"Noiz doesn't seem to be very good with people," muses Sei. "At least when it comes to their feelings. He's an excellent programmer, but..." 

"He's better with computers than real people," Aoba concludes. 

"Exactly!" Beaming at Aoba, Sei's chuckle chimes through the air, and then wide-eyed, he covers his mouth with his hand. "Ah, but it isn't very nice of me to be talking about a coworker of ours this way, is it?"

"Don't worry," reassures Aoba, after he's finished laughing with Sei, "It doesn't count, since you were trying to help me out."

"Then I hope I did," says Sei. From inside the house, Tae yells out an indiscernible request to the second floor, and Sei automatically starts to head inside. Trailing after him, Aoba smiles at his back.

"Thanks, Sei."  
  
  


\---

 

Sei coerces half the office into heading to an izakaya after work hours two weeks later on a Friday evening, declaring everyone in need of a break after working so hard for the entire week. Or to put it more accurately, the majority of the office agreed willingly with the exception of Noiz, whose presence here is entirely due to Sei's coaxing. Otherwise, according to Sei, he would have remained at Silent Oath to continue working.

Aoba doesn't know what he would have preferred, but he _does_ know that it's extremely difficult to say no to Sei once he puts his mind to it. And once Sei picked up on Noiz's tendency to overwork and stick to himself, Aoba knew Noiz didn't stand a chance of wriggling his way out of this trip. Besides, he tells himself, it's not like he has to talk to him. 

He doesn't have anything he wants to say to him anyway.

Glancing at Noiz who is seated off in a corner, nursing a drink with a sour face, Aoba thinks maybe Sei would have been better off letting him stay at work. His silence today is a vast difference from when they visited the Black Needle, where Noiz had been taciturn, but not sullen. Noiz's coworkers seemed accustomed to it, and give Noiz his space as the evening progresses. 

It's later, after more beers than Aoba cares to remember and with a warm, drowsy flush overtaking his system despite the food that he finds his eyes searching for Noiz again, only to fail. Maybe he left while everyone was too drunk to notice. Shrugging to himself, Aoba stands up and excuses himself from the table in search of fresh air.

A roar of laughter bursts out from the restaurant behind him, Aoba sighing with a small smile. He steps around the corner, into the alley beside it and leans against the wall. The izakaya is tucked on a street off from the main road, the foot traffic passing by on the street sparse. The evening breeze stirs, cooling his face.

It's quiet. Peaceful. 

Breathing in deeply, Aoba abruptly chokes on his own breath when Noiz appears out of nowhere beside him.

"You scared me," Aoba says reproachfully, once he's done being doubled over with coughs.

"I was here first." The warm pool of light from the street lamp doesn't quite reach inside the alley, leaving Noiz's face obscured in shadow. Aoba squints through the darkness anyway, trying to see his expression. 

Frowning, he asks suspiciously, "Was that a joke? What're you doing, hiding out back here?"

"Phone call." Noiz takes a step forward, coming to a stop in front of Aoba. 

It should have been awkward, what with how he'd been flat out avoiding Noiz for the past two weeks (has he noticed?) and upset with him, but something, maybe the alcohol, makes the conversation flow. "Oh. I thought maybe you had too much to drink."

The again goes unsaid, and Noiz purses his lips, looking over Aoba's shoulder. "That won't happen again." 

"Hmm." Aoba's mouth twitches. "I don't know, you were pretty out of it after just a few drinks."

"The drinks were stronger at that place." And then upon seeing Aoba's blank face, Noiz adds grudgingly. "The Black Needle."

"Yeah, Mizuki isn't stingy with the alcohol. Though I think he cuts back on my portion sometimes... something about how I'm a pain to deal with when I'm drunk." 

"Really?" Noiz raises his eyebrows. 

"I'm not," Aoba insists, making a face at Noiz. 

"Never said you were," is the reply. "But your face is red. Aren't you drunk right now?"

"I'm _fine_ ," Aoba bites back, and then after a moment's hesitation, adds, "What about you? Did you go get checked out after that?"

Noiz's eyes shutter, and Aoba winces internally, wondering if it would've been better not to bring it up at all. But he doesn't like it, leaving it unsaid like a giant elephant in the room. Talking to Noiz can be difficult enough as it is, and Sei had been on the money about him wanting to get to know Noiz better.

"Isn't that obvious?" says Noiz finally, "If there was something wrong with me, I wouldn't have been at work." 

"Right... then you're okay." Head meeting the wall, Aoba stares up at the sky. The moon hangs low and fat overhead, and he sighs in relief. "I was really worried about you." 

Noiz's brow furrows. "You mean mad." 

"Well yeah, that too, but..." Sei was also right about Noiz being awful with people. 

"Both?" Noiz is silent for a moment. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Look," Aoba says, "I don't know what you were trying to pull that day, with the whole thing in Rhyme, but just because I was mad at you doesn't mean I can't be worried too."

The incomprehension is clear as day on Noiz's face, prompting Aoba to clarify. "My point is, don't do stupid things that will make people worry about you."

"Nobody asked you to bother with me," Noiz frowns.

"Are you an idiot?" demands Aoba, and Noiz bristles. "It's not... caring about someone isn't something you can turn off. Haven't you ever felt that way with someone?" 

A long silence falls between them again. Aoba's never encountered someone as prickly and difficult to deal with Noiz before. Most of the time, he isn't even sure they get along. No, they definitely don't get along half the time, but when he thinks back to Noiz's pale face after the Rhyme game, the tension that remained in his limbs as he slept... he can't leave him alone.

"Maybe..." Noiz begins, and then stops. "I don't really get it, but are you listening to yourself?"

"Huh?"

The quiet sound of Noiz's footsteps echo in the alley, Aoba watching his approach uncomprehendingly as he closes the distance between them. Under the dim light, Noiz's face is half sunken in shadow, and Aoba recalls once more that night in his apartment, and the hot, insistent press of Noiz's mouth against his. His face heats up and he hopes the flush of colour rising to his cheeks can be mistaken for a side effect of too much alcohol in his system. 

"Saying things like you care about me." Noiz corners him, planting his hand on the wall above Aoba's shoulder. "And feeling this way, or whatever. Aren't you saying you like me?"

" _Hah_? No! That's--" Turning his head to one side, Aoba avoids Noiz's gaze. "I'm not saying I _don't_ like you, because I don't hate you either, but-- but not like that. We barely know each other. And honestly, you tick me off half the time... I'm always thinking, 'I don't get this guy at all'."

"What's with that answer?" Catching Aoba's chin gently with one hand, Noiz turns his face back towards him. His voice is a low rumble, smug as the cat who knows it's got the mouse cornered. "Like or dislike? Which one is it?"

Pulse rushing in his ears, Aoba's throat goes dry. His mind is a white roar of blankness, something he hasn't experienced since the first few times he got on stage to sing. He can't think, never mind answer Noiz. Like or dislike?

Noiz nudges his nose against Aoba's, and Aoba's eyelashes sink low over his eyes automatically. Heat radiates from him, warming Aoba despite the night's chill.

Everything grows out of focus as Noiz draws closer, the green of his eyes hazy with some kind of emotion that Aoba can't identify, and he's holding his breath in anticipation, growing dizzier by the second, and then--

The wooden door of the izakaya slides open with a loud clatter, followed by a burst of indistinct chatter that startles them both; two of the restaurant's guests step out, fumbling for cigarettes and a lighter. Aoba yanks away from Noiz, gulping air into his lungs, wild-eyed and speechless. His heart is pounding madly in his chest.

"I--" he starts.

"Well," Noiz interrupts, "You can answer me later. It's not like we don't work at the same place."

Aoba flushes at the implication, reading it for what it is, that Noiz knows he's been avoiding him. What can he say in his defense? Nothing. He _was_ avoiding him. 

Running his thumb over Aoba's lower lip, Noiz pauses. 

And then he releases Aoba, tucking his hands into his pockets before strolling down the alley without so much as a backwards glance, leaving Aoba to sag in relief against the wall, raising his hand to his mouth. 

It burns as though Noiz's touch left a brand on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am taking a LOT of creative liberties with rhyme, please bear with me!!
> 
> also if anyone ever has time/wants to do some editing for me, please drop me a line orz (I REALLY HATE EDITING)


	3. Elevation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a note that the rating has gone up-- i'm sure you all know what that means lmao

On Monday, Aoba orders a peace offering.

It arrives at roughly quarter past twelve, and Aoba picks it up from the foyer before bringing it up the building. He leaves one in the break room and proceeds to the floor above with the other, where Noiz has a temporary office.

The door is ajar; Aoba knocks anyway before he pokes his head through the threshold with a grin. "Special delivery!"

Noiz is seated on a leather chair behind the desk, and he makes a vague sound of acknowledgement without looking up from the array of screens around him until he realises that Aoba has entered the room rather than leaving said delivery behind. 

Arching an eyebrow, he pauses mid keystroke. "This some kind of special service?"

Aoba flushes but ignores him in favour of sweeping the papers on Noiz's desk off to the side, setting the box down. Noiz glances at it, eyes taking in the logo and widening almost imperceptibly. 

"...it's pizza,” he says.

"That's right, it's pizza." Aoba says, opening the lid. "I wasn't sure what flavour you liked, so I asked them to recommend something. This is the Teriymayomon! It's got five kinds of cheese, onions, corn, and teriyaki chicken on it. Looks good, right?

Inspecting the pizza, Noiz peers at it warily, inspecting it from every angle. The scent of cheese and hot, fresh food slowly overtakes the office. He turns his gaze towards Aoba. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing," Aoba says, picking up a slice for himself and then adding, "I got it because I felt like it."

"...you felt like it." Noiz repeats. Aoba's rewarded by the minute twitch of Noiz's facial expressions.

"It's kind of an apology pizza," Aoba admits, hoping that Noiz won’t react badly. Noiz's eyes flick up to Aoba and narrow.

"An apology pizza," he repeats. "For what?"

"Uhm... you know. Everything that happened recently. Ah, but don't get the wrong idea. It's only kind of an apology pizza because I'm not saying I'm sorry," It's Noiz who owes him an apology, really, "So it's actually more like a let's get along pizza."

During Aoba's explanation, Noiz stares at him as he listens to Aoba, wearing an inscrutable expression on his face; the one that he often wears which frustrates Aoba to no end. He's dubbed it as Noiz's mask. Aoba holds his breath.

"Then that means if I eat this pizza, it's saying I want to get along with you or whatever."

"Not exactly," Aoba hedges. "I can't make you do anything you don't want to. Eating pizza isn't like signing a contract."

Noiz snorts. "Persephone."

"What? Oh no, definitely not. Just- just think of it as a gift, all right? An olive branch."

"...really weird. You are." Noiz hovers his hand over the pizza like he's deciding on which slice to take. Just before he grabs one, he adds, "But I wouldn't mind "getting along" with you, so..." Stealing Aoba's slice of pizza, Noiz bites into it. Aoba squawks with indignation, making a half-hearted attempt to reclaim his slice.

"Why'd you take mine?" he demands. Noiz ignores him, chewing thoughtfully. Aoba gives up and retrieves another piece for himself, grumbling quietly. 

"Salty." 

"Is that good or bad?"

"I'll eat it," Noiz says, and then proceeds to do exactly that: devour half the pizza while Aoba looks on, amused and relieved that Noiz doesn't bring up the events of last Friday. Somehow or the other, he manages to make small chat with Noiz throughout his entire lunch break, talking half to himself and half to Noiz-- who isn't particularly talkative, but that's fine. 

This is fine.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
And just like that, they settle into a routine. Aoba drops by to interrupt Noiz's work three to four times a week. Sometimes he brings takeout, other times he drags Noiz out to a variety of restaurants across Midorijima, typically within walking distance, telling Noiz that it isn't healthy to stay cooped up indoors 24/7 staring at his computer screens. Noiz scoffs when Aoba tells him as much, but lets Aoba usher him out of the Silent Oath building nonetheless without further protest.

Once in a while, he catches Noiz staring at him with his eyebrows creased into the faintest of frowns like he wants to say something, but Aoba never gets a chance to ask what. 

It's over plates of salmon carpaccio followed by risotto with scallop for Aoba, ravioli with mushroom for Noiz that they talk the most, with topics ranging from work, or more often than not, whatever random topic it is that comes to Aoba’s mind. Aoba always hopes the conversation will distract Noiz from stealing bites off of his plate without asking; it never does.

"People aren't like computers, that's the thing," Aoba says, punctuating his words with a jab of his fork at Noiz. 

"Obviously." Noiz glares at the offending fork, and takes the chance to nip forward with his own and spear a scallop from Aoba's plate, only to be swatted away by Aoba.

"Right, it's obvious, _but_ I've been thinking, that's why you're so bad with people." 

"...I'm not bad with people." Noiz says.

"You totally are, I can tell even though everyone else thinks you're just unfriendly!" Aoba's witnessed it plenty of times before at Silent Oath. The conversations between Noiz and his coworkers tend to be brusque and to the point, without any extra frills or niceties. At first he'd thought that Noiz simply didn't have time to chat with everything there is to be done, but then he'd realised that was how he spoke with almost everyone. 

"If that's true," says Noiz, "then why would I be eating with you? Isn't that "friendly"?"

He takes advantage of Aoba's slack-jawed confusion and the epiphany that Noiz has a point to go back after the scallop, this time returning triumphantly with it speared on his fork. Noiz pops it into his mouth.

Aoba snaps out of his stunned stupor. "That's... isn't that because we're friends?" 

"Are we?" 

" _I_ think we are-- this is what friends do, right? Eat together and stuff?" And Noiz hasn't turned down his invitations or his habitual barging into his office. 

Noiz makes a discomfited sound, staring down at his pasta without moving to eat it before he shrugs. "Don't know." 

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Aoba asks suspiciously, bringing his plate closer to himself and blocking it with his free arm in case Noiz gets any ideas. 

Toying with his ravioli, Noiz dissects one before he realises Aoba isn't going to accept silence for an answer. He grumbles reluctantly, "Never really had any before." 

"You never had any friends?" He can't tell if Noiz is kidding or not, but from the way Noiz is acting along with the second no reply, it doesn't seem like a lie. It's simultaneously hard to believe yet not, considering Noiz's countenance and the stand-offish, almost aloof quality he has to him. 

Mind made up, Aoba grins at Noiz and leans over the table to steal some of Noiz's ravioli. Once he's back on his side of the booth with his ill begotten goods, he says, "Then we're friends." 

Noiz glances down at his plate and the missing space the stolen ravioli left, and then back at Aoba. There's something almost vulnerable about his expression that Aoba nearly misses. "Is that how it's supposed to work? You say we're friends and we are? Seems kinda weird to me." 

Aoba laughs. "Sure, why not? Were you expecting some sort of test? Anyway, usually it just happens."

“...hm.”

The ravioli is good. Aoba makes a note to come back here and order it again. Noiz has resumed eating as well. He hasn't answered Aoba, but Aoba doesn't push him. For a while, there's nothing but the sound of cutlery clinking and the low murmur of other diners chatting in the background. 

As Aoba finishes off the last of his pasta, he says, "Oh-- I'm gonna be gone for a few days next week for work."

"Mm." Noiz is chewing thoughtfully, eyes on Aoba. 

The need to add something further to the conversation strikes Aoba, so he follows it up with, "Make sure you eat properly while I'm away, okay? I'll be back before you know it."  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
Aoba lands in Okinawa without incident (to his relief). It's hot and sunny when he disembarks the plane, and he draws out his sunglasses from his button-up shirt's breast pocket, slipping them on. Outside, Aoba stops in front of the pick up zone, taking in his surroundings. The airport is bustling with visitors; he fingers the brim of his cap nervously.

"Aoba-san," A voice cuts through the air. Aoba turns, face splitting into a smile when his eyes land on a familiar face. 

"Virus! You made it." Heading towards Virus, who's clad in a dark suit despite the temperature, Aoba stops in front of him.

"Of course," Virus says with a smile, "We did say we would be picking you up." The trunk to the dark, sleek car idling at the curb directly behind him pops open, Trip emerging from the driver's side. Aoba shrugs, corners of his mouth tugged upwards. Virus and Trip are nothing if not meticulous managers, though hands-off rather than hands-on the majority of the time. It suits Aoba.

"Need help with your bag, Aoba?" 

Already heading around the car, Aoba waves a hand at him. "I'm fine, I got it." Depositing his suitcase in the trunk easily, he slides into the car through the door held open by Virus. The inside is cool, and he sighs out in relief. 

A short drive later, they arrive at their destination-- a beachfront resort close to where Aoba will be participating in a photoshoot tomorrow.

Virus checks his Coil in the lobby. "I'm sure you must be tired, Aoba-san. I suggest you turn in early as we'll be meeting at eight o'clock tomorrow morning, as you have a penchant for... oversleeping. We'll pick you up to take you to the set."

Aoba grins at him, "I get it, no staying up late. It's the middle of the afternoon though... which means I get the rest of the day to myself, right?"

"That's correct," Virus confirms. 

"This is why you're my favourite manager," Aoba laughs. "I'll see you guys tomorrow then, bright and early."

After Virus and Trip leave, Aoba stands in the hotel lobby for another five minutes. Honestly, he isn't sure what to do with the rest of his day. Okinawa is known for its beaches; Midorijima has plenty of those as well. For a moment, Aoba considers hitting up the beach and bringing along some paper to continue working on odds and ends for Sei's game, but dismisses the idea. It's a vacation, he tells himself, even if only for a day.

But he can't help thinking about how back on the island, everyone would be in full swing at Silent Oath. Sei would be fussing over the finer points of the game's plot (Aoba's lost track of how many times he's reassured him that it's fine, everyone will love it), Clear will hopefully be overseeing to the music, and Noiz...

Probably hunched over his keyboard at his desk, staring at the code scrolling across his screen until his eyes go bad. Aoba can only hope he remembers to take a break without him being there to harass him into one. 

But then again, Noiz is an adult. He can take care of himself, Aoba reassures himself. 

Yet later in the day when Aoba is browsing one of the many kitschy, tacky souvenir shops, he purchases a box of purple sweet potato candy, intending to bring it back to Noiz to see the look on his face when he eats it.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
"Good job everyone, let's take a short break!"

Sighing, Aoba relaxes, rolling his shoulders. The photo shoot crew swarms around him, and he jokes and laughs with them briefly before excusing himself. He stops at a vending machine at the edge of the beach, peering at the available selection. With the sun creeping higher up in the sky as the day goes on, he should probably drink something that'll keep him well hydrated. Making up his mind, Aoba holds his Coil up to the machine, letting it scan his payment with a _beep_.

-> Please make your selection.

A hand snakes out from around him, hitting the buttons faster than Aoba can react. 

"H-hey!!" 

The drink drops down into the slot, and Aoba whirls around, coming face to face with a familiar set of green eyes. His jaw drops in surprise. "Noiz--?!!"

Noiz leans down to retrieve the canned drink from the machine's slot, popping it open. "Hey."

"Wha-- don't you _hey_ me, what are you doing here?" Aoba watches, flabbergasted, as Noiz sips from his ill-begotten drink. His eyebrows shoot up and he licks his lips when he's done. "You stole my drink!"

"Thought I'd come visit you," he says, before shoving the can at Aoba. "It's good, try it."

Accepting the can numbly, Aoba says slowly, "You came to visit me? In the middle of the work week?"

"Yeah," Noiz shrugs. "It isn't a problem, if that's what you're worried about."

"So you... just flew out here because you were bored? Does Sei know you're here?" Taking a tentative sip, Aoba's face screws up in a grimace when the sugar hits his tongue. He pushes the drink back to Noiz, and sets about getting what he originally meant to buy. "That's way too sweet for me, you can keep it."

"No," Noiz corrects, "I came here to see you."

"To see me?" Aoba repeats, the heat rising to his face. Crouching down, he hides it from Noiz while retrieving his drink, pressing the cold bottle to his cheek. His throat has gone all dry, and it occurs to him that it isn't only because he's thirsty. But... Noiz seriously came to Okinawa because he wanted to see him? Fumbling with his words, Aoba manages to bite out a reply. "Oh. Uhm. Thanks?"

"You didn't want to?" asks Noiz, watching Aoba without blinking over the edge of his ill-begotten drink. 

"That's not it," Aoba blurts out, twisting the cap off his Pocari. "I'm just surprised, anyone would be! You showed up completely out of the blue."

"It was a surprise," Noiz says, mouth curving up faintly at the corners. 

Aoba blinks at him, the realisation dawning on him two seconds later. A startled laugh escapes him. "Was that a joke? Seriously, you..."

"Maybe," Noiz says, leaning against the vending machine. "When will you be done working?"

"Soon, probably. We already did the interview yesterday, so it's just photos today. Maybe in an hour?" 

"Can I watch?" 

"Eh?" Aoba glances at Noiz. "Sure, if you wanna. It won't be that interesting or anything though." 

"That's fine," Noiz answers. "It's what you do, isn't it? I want to see it." 

"Technically it isn't _really_ \-- I mean, singing's my job, this is like... product placement? Ah, but I like Brain Nuts a lot, so it's not like I didn't want to do a collaboration either!" Aoba remembers how excited he'd been when Virus and Trip told him about Brain Nuts interest in getting Aoba to model some of their pieces in their upcoming clothing collection that he'd said yes without a second thought.

"Right." Noiz sounds amused, and looking at his face, it definitely looks like he's going to laugh at him. Aoba frowns, about to retort when he hears his name being called. One of the staff waves to him from the distance, and he hurriedly caps his drink. 

"Come on," he says to Noiz before taking off, without waiting to see if he's following or not. It's not as if he could possibly miss the crew swarming the beach and Aoba, tweaking his clothes and hair and makeup before the shoot resumes once more.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
The shoot runs on longer than Aoba expects. At first he worries that he won't be able to concentrate with Noiz watching him, but thinking back on it, that'd been a pointless worry. He'd gotten over his stage fright ages ago; it isn't something that sticks around for long when you're a performer, and Aoba _is_. He flirts with the camera, following directions and gamely enjoying himself to the best of his ability, just doing without thinking so his poses stay as natural as possible.

By the time they wind down, he's half exhausted and half euphoric, chatting with the crew and helping them break down. The last person he speaks with is the designer for Brain Nuts, and he walks away pleased and grinning and with a shopping bag full of some choice items swinging from his arm.

Noiz lingers in the periphery; Aoba spots him from the corner of his eye and heads towards him. 

"Sorry!" he calls out, the sand slowing his approach down. "It took longer than I thought it would, but we're done now."

"It's fine," Noiz says, eyeing Aoba as Aoba rubs the back of his neck, reaching up to pull his hair out of the high ponytail the stylist put it in. "No- leave it like that." 

"Huh?"

"Your hair," Noiz clarifies, reaching out to run his finger against Aoba's nape. "It looks good like that." 

"Stop that, it tickles!" Squirming away from Noiz with a helpless laugh, Aoba claps his hands back over the exposed skin, glaring at Noiz. "I don't mind leaving it up 'cause it's hot, but keep your hands to yourself!"

"Oh?" The smirk uncurls itself in Noiz's words, and spreads across his face. "Then anything goes as long as I don't touch you with my hands." 

"Right, that's what I mean." Aoba can't tell if Noiz is messing around with him or not, but just in case he is, he lets his glare linger another five seconds on Noiz before he changes the subject. "Anyway, since you came all the way here, is there anything you want to do here?" 

"Not really," says Noiz dismissively, glancing around them. The beach is a lesser-known, more out of the way one, and as a result, it isn't particularly crowded. It's beautiful, in Aoba's opinion, with its white sands and the clear, sparkling water stretching out to the horizon. Aoba has to wonder how Noiz knew where to find him, but he doesn't get a chance to ask him when Noiz continues talking. "Food. Let's go."

And then he's taking off back towards the road. Aoba blinks at his retreating figure before following after him bemusedly. Noiz is surprisingly chatty and amiable today.

"Food where? Have you been here before?" He asks, catching up to Noiz and falling in step beside him. 

"I looked up some places," shrugs Noiz. "Not hungry?" 

"No, that's not it..." On cue, his stomach growls, and Aoba sighs. "Okay, lead the way."

After waving down a cab, Noiz directs the driver to a restaurant. From a glance, Aoba can tell it's an upscale, trendy sort of place. He subtly looks down at his own outfit-- fitted, dark blue, just above the knee shorts and a slim-fit button-up with the sleeves rolled up j-crew style with the top two buttons undone. Probably acceptable. Noiz is similarly dressed albeit in a green and black striped polo top and khakis. Perfectly fine. 

And it is, to his surprise. Dinner goes by smoothly and without incident. Aoba didn't realise it, but he'd gotten used to eating with Noiz. They reach for the bill at the same time, and after a short scuffle during which the waiter shyly asked Aoba for an autograph (Aoba acquiesces), giving Noiz the opportunity to hold out his Coil first, wins the fight.

"By the way, I forgot to ask earlier, but... where exactly are you staying?" Aoba asks as they head into the hotel lobby after hitting up a convenience store for snacks and drinks. 

Noiz pauses, and his face goes still. Aoba reads the expression correctly and groans. "You seriously didn't plan this out, did you?"

"Shouldn't this place have more rooms left?" Noiz grumbles, refusing to meet Aoba's eyes. They inquire at the front desk, and it turns out Noiz is wrong. It's peak season right now after all, so Aoba isn't surprised to learn that everything is sold out. 

He hesitates, unsure of whether or not he's overstepping his boundaries, but finally says, "You can crash with me, I guess. Virus always books a bigger room than I need." 

Raising his eyebrows, Noiz doesn't say anything for a long moment, staring at Aoba flatly instead. And then he tips his head forward in an almost imperceptible nod. His voice curls into a low, amused murmur. "I don't mind spending the night with you."

"There's a couch, you can sleep on that or go find a different hotel!!" Aoba ignores the rush of heat to his cheeks. He knew Noiz was going to make a snide comment about it, but he made the offer anyway. What does that say about him? Aoba tells himself it's because Noiz is a colleague and something like a friend (it’s been bothering, how Noiz never answered his question before he left), and he isn't as cold-hearted as to turn him out on the street with nowhere to sleep. Besides, it's the obvious thing to do. 

Thankfully, Noiz doesn't follow up on his comment, obediently and quietly following after Aoba instead as he leads them up to his room. Dumping the plastic bags onto the desk when he gets inside, Noiz follows Aoba's suit, putting his bag down as well. 

True to Aoba's word, his room is a large, bordering on opulent king suite. A partition separates the living area from the bedroom, an L-shaped couch pushed up against the wall. The floor length glass doors leading out to the balcony lends the room natural light and an excellent view of the beach, with the sun sinking down the horizon. Aoba's told Virus and Trip time and again that he's only one person, and this big of a room seems unnecessary ("We want you to be comfortable, Aoba-san" and "Nothing but the best for you, Aoba!" is the answer he always gets), but it looks like it came in handy this time.

Noiz is taking in the room curiously when Aoba pulls out a bottle of water from the bag he set down earlier and heads to the balcony, sliding the door open. The scent of salt hangs in the air when Aoba breathes in deep, and then exhales. He settles into one of the patio chairs, untwisting the cap from his water and drinking. Noiz joins him, leaning on the railing with his back to the view.

"Are you sure you don't want to do anything else? Seems like a waste to come all this way and not even go to the beach..." Aoba says, breaking the comfortable silence. 

"It isn't that far," says Noiz, shrugging. "And didn't I say it already? I came here to see you." 

"You have to take a plane to get here," Aoba points out, ignoring the other half of Noiz's words. He doesn't know what to say to it. 

Unblinkingly, Noiz keeps his stare leveled on Aoba. "I'm not scared of planes like you."

"I'm not _scared_ of them, I just don't trust them!" There's no real heat behind Aoba's protest, as worn out and relaxed as he is. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore is particularly soothing, and Aoba's sure he could fall asleep like this. If it weren't for someone standing in front of him, making fun of him.

Said someone only huffs in reply; it's a sound that sounds suspiciously close to a laugh, and Aoba squints at Noiz. 

Suddenly, Aoba finds Noiz directly in front of him, both hands planted on the arms of the chair he's in. He gets a blurry view of blond hair and green eyes, moving in fast and close just before Noiz catches him in a kiss-- long and slow and probing, Noiz running his tongue across Aoba's lips and pulling away with a playful tug of his bottom lip. It leaves Aoba breathless, and his head spinning.

"You're too open," Noiz murmurs. His hand has found its way to Aoba's face, and he strokes his thumb over the curve of his cheek. 

"...am not," Aoba mumbles obstinately, any traces of fatigue wiped from his system. "I let you do that." 

"Did you?" This time, it's definitely a chuckle that escapes from Noiz. "Then I'm gonna do it again."

"Go ahea--" He's cut off by Noiz's mouth closing over his again. It's not that he didn't realise it, the implication behind inviting Noiz to stay with him in his hotel room, but though it had been there, and a possibility, Aoba hadn't been expecting anything. Not precisely. Noiz has made it obvious time and again that he's interested in Aoba, and Aoba, torn between indecision and uncertainty when it comes to dealing with Noiz, hasn't known what to do with him. But the way he figures it, is that they're both adults, and frankly, Noiz is excellent at kissing and they (sort of) get along and then he licks into Aoba's mouth, rubbing his piercing across the roof of his mouth, and Aoba forgets to think.

Dragging Noiz closer by his shirt, Aoba tilts his head back, sliding his tongue over Noiz's, testing out how the piercing feels against the underside of his tongue before Noiz eases off him. He chains a trail of kisses from Aoba's mouth to his jaw, down to his neck where they grow wet and open-mouthed and Aoba makes a soft sound at the back of his throat from the feel of it. Noiz's eyes are shining in the dark from the light of the hotel room behind them when he stares down at Aoba hungrily. 

"Up," he says, tugging Aoba from the patio chair. Aoba sways as he rises to his feet, and Noiz hooks an arm around his waist, keeping him close and spilling deep kisses on Aoba as they stumble through the threshold. Noiz's hands are all over him, sliding hot over his back and pushing his shirt up; he drags his thumb over the bumps of Aoba's spine, fingers grazing his sides.

Back hitting the wall with a thump, Aoba leans in with equal fervor to Noiz, swiping his tongue across Noiz's bottom lip and then catching his mouth again. He's panting and Noiz is no better off. Aoba can feel his chest heaving as he presses him heavily into the wall, pinning him there with his hips and rolling them against him _just right_ until Aoba's moaning into the kiss, writhing and moving back against him. 

Noiz growls low in his throat, thumbing the buttons on Aoba's shirt impatiently before yanking it open. One of them pops off and hits the ground with a clatter. It rolls across the hardwood. Like the sound shattered a spell, Aoba's eyes fly open. A thin thread of saliva connects their mouths when Aoba wrenches away, mouth swollen and red.

"W-wait," he gasps out, digging his fingers against Noiz's shoulders. 

Nosing at the hollow of his throat, Noiz delicately scrapes his teeth against the thin skin, and Aoba nearly whines in the back of his throat. Amusement laces Noiz's voice, words rolling out in a purr, "Why? You're already like this here."

With that, he grinds his cock directly against Aoba's, reaching around to squeeze his ass. Aoba shudders and squirms, biting down on his lip to muffle his groan. He forgets what he meant to say as Noiz speaks, breath hot against his ear. "You sound even better than I thought you would. I want to hear more."

"Nnn-- ah- hang on, already!" Panting, Aoba manages to push Noiz a reasonable (read: a hand span's) distance from him, fingers curled over his admittedly nice and defined biceps. Face hot, his gaze slips from Noiz's eyes and settles on his chin. "Do you have... you know."

"Have what?" The tease is obvious in his voice, and Aoba frowns. Annoyed, he lowers one hand and pinches Noiz's nipple; he's rewarded with a short groan from Noiz, whose mouth falls half open. Did he like that? What a masochist. Aoba shoves the thought to the back of his mind. Test this later, first things first.

Sliding his hand into Noiz's back pocket, Aoba fishes out two foil wrappers-- a condom, and from the feel of it, lube. Holding them between his index and middle fingers, he waves them in Noiz's face. "Aha! I'm talking about this! Do you always carry this around?"

"..." Noiz slides his hands to Aoba's hips, digging his fingers in lightly. His gaze shifts off to the side, mouth mulish. "Sometimes." 

"Hmmm," Aoba hums, and then tucks his findings back where he found them. Noiz's eyes flick to him, questioning. Ignoring it, Aoba coaxes Noiz back into a kiss. It doesn't take much before Noiz is sucking on his tongue and Aoba's making needy little whimpers into his mouth, clinging weakly to Noiz. He's rubbing himself against Noiz like a cat in heat, and Noiz takes the hint. 

Yanking Aoba's belt free once he undoes the buckle along with the zip on Aoba's shorts, Noiz shoves them down. His eyes are stuck on Aoba's face even as he palms Aoba through his underwear, before he draws Aoba's cock out, rubbing the head of it with his thumb. 

Aoba throws his head back, arching into the touch with a helpless whine. Noiz strokes him languidly, taking in the pale curve of Aoba's throat, as he fumbles with his own pants. 

Opening his eyes again when the pressure of Noiz's hand is replaced with a different kind-- the glide of Noiz's dick against his own, and the distinctly inorganic drag on it has him gaping down in shock. The piercings on his cock glitter back up at him.

"T-there too?!" Undeniably, it feels good enough to make his breath hitch when Noiz wraps his fingers back around both of them, and after a moment's hesitation, Aoba does the same. The piercings push along the underside of his dick, and Aoba squirms.

Noiz's voice is a husky, dark thing, spilling into Aoba's ears. "They'll make you feel good."

The heat curls and tightens low in Aoba's stomach, and he grinds into Noiz desperately, but it isn't enough. Their foreheads touch, breath mingling. Aoba bites his bottom lip, eyelashes lowered. Unable to tear his gaze from the obscene sight of his cock, dripping and hard and rocking against Noiz's, who's doing no better. 

" _Noiz_ ," Aoba gasps out, and he tentatively rolls the pad of his thumb over the ball at the head of Noiz's cock. "Come on, do it." 

For a split second, he thinks Noiz is gonna stop altogether, his hand slowing down as he retrieves the packet from his back pocket, tearing it open with his teeth. He gives Aoba a hard squeeze that has Aoba crying out, and then hitches his leg up, encouraging him to wrap it around his waist. Aoba does, watching with his face burning as Noiz slicks the lube over his fingers and dick. 

"So eager," he comments, and Aoba opens his mouth to make a sharp retort. He's cut off by Noiz, who presses a finger into him without warning. With a whine (Aoba can't seem to shut up), he hangs onto Noiz, trying to get used to the feeling. 

Noiz spreads Aoba open, finger by finger until Aoba's got three stuffed in him, but he's still aching for more and trying to fuck himself on Noiz's fingers. He knows he's flushed from face to neck down, knows that he looks like a mess right now, except he couldn't care less when he wants Noiz this much. And Noiz does too-- it's obvious in the way he licks his lips and pulls his fingers out from Aoba; how he hurriedly rolls the condom on his dick and then seizes Aoba by back of his thighs, lifting him up.

“Wait, like this--?” Voice rising in alarm, Aoba locks his legs around Noiz nonetheless. 

“I won’t drop you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Noiz says, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a small smile. 

“That’s not it,” Aoba lies. They’re roughly the same height and similarly built, but maybe he’s lighter than Noiz? Or Noiz is simply strong. Then his dick gets the better of him and he says, “Fine, whatever, but you better not drop me!” 

Noiz’s reply is a laugh hidden in huff of air. Wrapping his arms around Noiz's neck, Aoba hides his face in Noiz's neck and muffles his moan as Noiz enters him, stretching him slowly. But he stops just as he's barely halfway in Aoba. 

"Hey," he whispers. "I told you, didn't I? I wanna hear all the sounds you make." 

And then he slams into Aoba and Aoba cries out without abandon, the sudden fullness filling him leaving him breathless. Thankfully, Noiz doesn't move immediately. He laughs into Aoba's ear instead, licking it. "That's better."

"Shut up." Aoba turns his face, and bites at Noiz's neck and then sucks at the mark he made. Noiz grunts, deep in his throat. "And-- and- quit talking already, you're so embarrassing!!" 

"What's with that? Acting shy now." Wreaking havoc with his senses, Noiz continues to speak directly into his ear in a tone as intimate as a caress. "I'm already in you." 

With a strangled squawk of horror, Aoba decides he's had enough of Noiz running his mouth, raising his head to kiss Noiz again in an attempt to shut him up. It works admirably well until Noiz decides to demonstrate his earlier point by easing Aoba off his cock and then fucking back into him in a rough thrust and Aoba ends up biting out his name instead in a wreckage of broken syllables and too many vowels. 

There's not much Aoba can do in this position, he quickly realises, aside from keeping his legs wrapped tightly around Noiz and hoping he doesn't drop him while Noiz sets the pace, fucking him deep and thoroughly. His shirt has ridden up, and when Aoba shoves his hips back into Noiz, he finds his navel piercing. It's at exactly the right place for Aoba to move against it, and he does, making a slick mess of Noiz's stomach.

Then Noiz enters him from a slightly different angle and brushes directly against a spot that has Aoba moaning and his toes curling, back bowing. 

"Oh?" Aoba studiously avoids Noiz's eyes. Noiz nudges his nose against Aoba's, dropping a quick kiss on his mouth. "You suddenly got so tight. Was that the spot?"

Noiz doesn't bother to wait for an answer, pulling back out and then thrusting back in, and Aoba seizes against him, writhing and clenching around his cock. "Nn-- ah, _hah_ , Noiz. Wait, if you do that--"

He doesn't need to open his eyes to see the smirk on Noiz's face as he slides himself back in Aoba, inch by torturous inch so his piercings drag and bump directly over Aoba's sweet spot. Aoba isn't sure how much more of this he can handle. In fact, he's sure he can't handle more, and when Noiz sees whatever he's looking for on Aoba's face, he slows down and stops, sheathed deep all the way to the hilt in him. 

Frustrated, Aoba opens his eyes. Noiz is looking at him, eyes unreadable. He tips his head forward and rests his forehead against Aoba’s. 

“You never answered my question,” he says lowly.

“What--” Aoba gulps for air greedily, trying to contain his gasping even as he grinds down impatiently onto Noiz’s cock. The angle isn’t quite right anymore. “ _What_ question?” And why does Noiz need to ask it while they’re in the middle of this, he wants to ask. Trying to contain the whine in his voice, Aoba adds, “Can’t it wait?”

“Forgot? I’ll remind you,” Noiz murmurs. He leans in and licks at Aoba’s mouth deliberately, and Aoba tries to kiss him back only for Noiz to pull just out of reach. “Like or dislike?” 

“That’s... “ Trying to think through the fog in his mind, Aoba stares into the green of Noiz’s gaze. Noiz has stopped moving. He knows what he’s talking about, of course. The question Noiz asked him back in the alleyway, on the night everyone working on the game had gone to the izakaya. Aoba thought his answer couldn’t be more obvious. “Of course I do-- like you- why else would I be doing this with you?!”

Noiz hums wordlessly, mouth twitching up into a smirk. “Like what? Me, or…” Pulling out partly he pushes his cock back in directly against Aoba’s prostate in a very distracting manner. Aoba’s eyes squeeze shut, a sob wringing itself from his throat. “This?”

“ _You_ , you jerk, so quit teasing me already!!” Digging his heels into Noiz’s back, Aoba knocks his forehead back against Noiz’s. Noiz doesn’t even blink, eyes gouging a hole in Aoba. Finally, satisfied with whatever he sees, he inclines his head in what Aoba belatedly realises is a nod.

And then he’s pounding back into Aoba, pinning him to the wall again. Aoba yelps in surprise, squeezing his thighs tightly around him when Noiz's hand finds his cock in between them and seizes it, jerking him off in time to each drive in and out of Aoba.Gasps and moans and whimpers leave Aoba, mixing in with the softer sounds of Noiz's pants, and underneath that, the slap of their skin as they connect. 

Aoba starts to see spots in his vision, digging his nails into Noiz's back. Noiz runs his nail over the head of his cock and Aoba's eyes fly open. In front of him, Noiz is watching him with a bright-eyed fervor, hand bruising on his hip. He does it again, twisting his hand over Aoba's cock perfectly, and Aoba keens. "I'm gonna- Noiz--"

"Go ahead," Noiz breathes hotly, circling the head of Aoba's leaking cock with his thumb and index finger. "Show me it."

A full body tremor working its way over him, Aoba's stomach tightens just before he comes all over Noiz's hand and shirt and abdomen with a low cry. Noiz doesn't stop thrusting into him, fucking Aoba through his climax until he comes too, burying himself impossibly deep inside with a breathless murmur of, "Aoba." 

Limp and worn out, Aoba leans heavily over Noiz's shoulder. They catch their breaths, and Noiz slides out of Aoba, setting him down carefully then moving to dispose of the condom. Aoba leans wearily against the wall, flushed and sore and sated. Weariness crashes down on him, and Aoba mumbles something incoherent to Noiz who simply cocks his head at him and scoops him back up in his arms. 

Too tired to protest, he lets Noiz bundle him into bed and peel off the remainder of his clothing. The mattress sinks under Noiz's weight when he joins Aoba, sheets rustling as Noiz pulls them roughly over both of them. 

"Shower," Aoba says sleepily. 

Noiz hesitates, then reaches up and smooths back a stray piece of hair that's fallen across Aoba's face. "Later." 

Later sounds like the better idea with how heavy his entire body feels, so Aoba doesn't argue with Noiz, though he gets the feeling that there's something he forgot to tell him. (Even later on, he'll remember that Noiz was supposed to sleep on the couch.) Noiz strokes his hand through Aoba's hair, loops of it curled across the pillow between them and cascading over his shoulders. He looks like he's deep in thought. Aoba watches him silently, and then gives him a small smile that splits into a yawn when their eyes meet.

Just before his vision fades out from green to black, Aoba recalls the fervent whisper of his name on Noiz's tongue, and realises that it's first time he's ever heard Noiz say his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL!!!!! THERE YOU HAVE IT... the plot kicks in next chapter (there was a plot?? i know, surprise!!)
> 
> after that, i think there's only a couple more chapters to go...!! THE AU PART WILL COME A BIT MORE INTO PLAY AND STUFF so sit tight
> 
> thanks for reading! please comment & let me know what you thought lmao, i'm pretty rusty with porn scenes
> 
> ALSO IF YOU'D LIKE TO CHAT ABOUT DMMD AND NOIAO OR ANYTHING DMMD REALLY, hit me up on twitter @ throatkiss!! please help me use it more lmao


	4. Altitude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS PART ONE OF A TWO PART UPDATE
> 
> also a big shout out to key for helping me edit this chapter and the next!! thank you :)

Aoba sleeps deeply and soundly that night.

He doesn't stir even when something cold nudges against his face, though the fur tickling at it makes him wrinkle his nose in his sleep. And it isn't until he begins to hear snatches of conversation through the slowly thinning haze of sleep that he begins to wake at all.

"Aoba requested that I do so at this time." That's Ren, Aoba thinks sleepily. Who is he talking to? Either way, they're loud enough to have Aoba pushing his face into his pillow with a grumble. 

"He asked you to jump on him until he wakes up?" 

"That is the most effective method."

There's a lull in the conversation, the mattress shifting, and then, "It's fine. I'll wake him up in ten minutes." 

"Understood." Ren says.

Aoba gives up on the last vestiges of sleep, cracking his eyes open. Ren is nowhere in sight, and instead Aoba is treated to a view of Noiz's bare back. It's a nice view, he thinks groggily, and then mumbles, "Oh." 

"Go back to sleep," Noiz says, half turning and looking at Aoba, who spots the furry blue lump held in Noiz's hands, but doesn't fully register what he's seeing in his head.

"'kay," he agrees readily, closing his eyes again. A moment passes, and he sits bolt upright in bed, sheets pooling on his lap. "Ren?!"

Ren wags his tail, and Aoba scrambles towards him, pushing Noiz aside. Aoba groans in dismay, realising that he'd instructed Ren to wake him up in the morning. That had been before he'd expected company, and with everything that happened last night, it all added up to Ren finding him in an extremely compromising position. 

"Good morning, Aoba. It is now 8:32 in the morning. Instructions, please." Aoba snatches Ren from Noiz, hurriedly setting him into sleep mode, face flushed. He knows Ren is an Allmate, but Ren has always been more than just that to him, and letting him see him in bed with Noiz-- naked, nonetheless, is embarrassing. 

Noiz is watching him, looking from him to Ren with his eyebrows raised. Aoba snaps at him, "Don't mess with someone else's Allmate without-- without putting on some clothes first!!"

"You're not wearing anything either," Noiz says instead. He's eyeing the fall of Aoba's hair around his shoulders with interest, and there's an undercurrent of laughter in his voice when he asks, "He always do that to wake you up? Jump on you?"

Groaning, Aoba rolls onto the other side of the bed, setting Ren down gently on the floor. He plants his face back in his pillow afterwards. "Shut up, it's way too early for this."

The sheets rustle as Noiz moves towards Aoba's side of the bed which dips down under their combined weight. Sweeping Aoba's hair to one side, he presses his mouth to the curve of Aoba's shoulder in a dry kiss, mouthing at bare skin. Aoba squirms to the very edge of the bed when the kisses reach his neck, trying not to fall over the side. 

"Knock it off, Noiz," he warns him.

"Why?" Noiz's breath ghosts across him. "You put the Allmate into sleep mode, didn't you? ...weird, anyway. Caring what it thinks."

Turning onto his side, Aoba frowns up at Noiz, who has himself propped up on one arm and is looking down at Aoba with a faintly sullen tilt to his mouth. 

"His name is _Ren_ , and it isn't weird." Aoba says, pulling the sheets up to his chest. Or he tries to, anyway. Noiz is sitting on most of them without a single piece of clothing on him, and Aoba colours. Then last night definitely wasn't a dream, not that he thought it was with how sore he feels. For some reason, he kind of thought that Noiz would've left earlier than him, but here he is. Sitting on his bed and talking to him like nothing is out of the ordinary.

"Like what you see?" Noiz ducks his head down, nudging his nose against Aoba's. Aoba's flush grows darker yet when he realises he was staring, and he averts his gaze.

"Didn't I say it's too early for this?" he grumbles, but graces Noiz's cheek with a kiss. Noiz attempts to land it on his mouth; Aoba flicks him on the forehead for it. 

"Nice try, not happening." Stretching out on the bed lazily, Aoba reaches his arms over his head and then sits up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. The sheet goes with him, and he ignores the way Noiz hasn't so much as blinked once while looking at him. "You haven't brushed your teeth, and neither have I."

"I don't mind," says Noiz, and then he plucks at the sheet wound around Aoba, trying to pull it from him. "What's with this? Getting all shy again."

"Gross," Aoba wrinkles his nose at him, and swats at Noiz's hands. " _That_ is a sheet, and it's 'cause you won't stop looking at me like you wanna eat me."

There's a long, considering hum from Noiz, and he says, "I can't?"

"No!" Aoba laughs, marshaling his legs underneath him. "I can't just mess around with you all day, I have stuff to do!"

"Like me?" Noiz says suggestively, a lascivious smile curling his lips. 

With a helpless groan, Aoba shakes his head and stalks off to the washroom to clean up and shower. 

And despite all of Aoba's protests and grousing, he doesn't argue when Noiz joins him in the shower, the hot water spraying down on them. They end up fooling around in there, Aoba with his hands braced on the tiles while Noiz thrusts between his thighs from behind, sucking wetly at the nape of his neck and jerking him off languidly.

His schedule is full for the remainder of the day in Okinawa until his flight back to Midorijima later in the evening, and he tells Noiz as much. Noiz doesn’t seem to mind, and Aoba’s inwardly relieved by it.

"So I'll see you back in Midorijima, then?" Aoba asks, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Yeah," Noiz says, fingering a curl of Aoba’s hair before he ducks in to kiss him. Amidst Aoba’s sputtering, he adds, "See you there."  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
His apartment is dark and blessedly quiet when Aoba returns to Midorijima in the late evening, wearily dragging his suitcase into his room and leaving it unpacked. Flopping on his bed, Aoba lies there with his eyes closed, the exhaustion and events of the past few days leaving him heavy and unwilling to budge. Work had been as per usual; a round of photoshoots and an interview and an appearance on a variety show, things he does every so often in between albums as part of his career, but he hadn't expected Noiz to show up in Okinawa, never mind sleep with him.

It's not as though Aoba hasn't messed around with people and dated in the past, but something about Noiz always seemed aloof and distant, even when they were joking around. He thought that Noiz had been warming up to him. Plus he'd seemed sort of interested in him from the first time they met, though at first Aoba had put that down as simple flirting. So... maybe Noiz liked him more than he thought from the start, and this means they'll only get along better from here on.

Sighing, Aoba sits up against his headboard. He pulls Ren out of his bag from beside him, activating him. A nice, long heart-to-heart chat with him to help him unwind and figure out his mess of feelings would help before he slept.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
"A-o-ba," Sei sings out, poking his head into the music studio. The room is thrumming with music and laughter, and a round of greetings ring out for Sei.

Aoba looks up from where he's seated, the last notes dying away beneath his fingers. "Oh, Sei! You're just in time if you wanna hear us practice." 

"You left the door cracked open, I could hear you from the down the hall! Everyone sounds wonderful," Sei laughs, dropping into the seat beside Aoba. "But actually, I came here to show you something."

"Mm? Show me what?" Around them, instruments fall into disarray and everyone breaks off to practice different sections. Sei sets the tablet in his hands carefully on his leg and Aoba's, leaving the hologram mode off. Aoba leans forward, peering down at the screen.

It's a celebrity gossip site, or the section of one, Aoba never really reads them, and the headline of this article is... 

"Aoba spotted in Okinawa having an intimate dinner with a mysterious blonde foreigner," Aoba reads out loud, jaw dropping. There is a surprisingly good picture to go along with the article, the angle of it suggesting a hidden shot made via Coil. It's of him and Noiz, the two of them seated in that restaurant they ended up at when Noiz dropped in on him. Aoba is laughing, gesturing vividly with his hands at Noiz, who is reclined in his chair with one arm draped over the back, yet rapt and focused on Aoba, cutlery left abandoned to one side of his plate. 

Reading on, Aoba quickly scans the rest of the article. Sure, he's appeared a couple times in the news with the nature of his career being what it is, but he prefers to keep a low-profile beyond what's necessary. Okinawa must've been having a slow news week to have published this. The contents of the article are rife with the typical fanfare of this sort of article- a little detail on Aoba, and then the focus goes onto Noiz, whose identity is revealed with no little amount of dramatics.

> ...sources speculate that due to the singer's ties with the game industry via his brother and this friendly dinner with game developer and CEO of Usagimodoki means an exciting collaboration between the artist and the two game companies will soon be announced.

  
"Oh," Aoba says dumbly. "Shit, should I call Virus? This was supposed to be under wraps, right?"

"Don't worry about that, Aoba! I already got in touch with Virus-san and your publicist, we figured that this is a good way to build up the anticipation; get a buzz going. Advertising would've started sooner or later." Sei flaps his hand at Aoba, and redirects his attention, tapping the picture on his tablet. "More importantly, you didn't tell me you and Noiz are getting along now!"

"You are?" There's a horrible scraping sound as Clear drags yet another chair towards Aoba, effectively bracketing him in in between Sei and Clear. Aoba wonders if there's any possibility of a getaway whatsoever. "That's wonderful, Aoba-san! You know, Noiz-san seemed very excited about going to Okinawa, for him. I think I actually saw him smile! Though that might've been a trick of the light..."

"Wait," Aoba says, trying to keep up with the conversation. "Hang on a moment--"

"Yes," Sei muses, tapping his chin with his finger. "He did seem rather eager to go, and since it was his birthday, I could hardly say no." 

"It was his birthday?" Clear and Aoba say in chorus, and then grin at each other. Clear adds, "But then we should throw him a party!"

"He paid for _dinner_ ," groans Aoba in sudden horror, and Sei looks torn between amusement and guilt. 

"Actually, I don't think he meant to tell me that it was his birthday," he confesses. "And you know how Noiz is, it's probably better if we don't make a fuss over it."

" _You_ let him take off on a plane in the middle of the work week," Aoba snorts. 

"Well, we're ahead of schedule thanks to him, so I didn't see why not." Standing up, Sei cradles his tablet to his chest and smiles down at Aoba and Clear. "And Aoba, doesn't that mean you should invite him out another time to treat him?"

"That's right, Aoba-san! Making someone pay for dinner on their birthday is bad manners," Clear chides. 

"I didn't make him pay for it!! And I already do that, just--" Sighing, Aoba gives up and stands as well, setting his guitar gingerly across the chair. "Never mind. Clear, can you take care of things here for a while? I'll be right back."

Nodding, Clear gives Aoba a big thumbs up and moves to usher the room back into some semblance of order. Beside him, Sei tips his head at Aoba and smiles, nudging him with his shoulder. "If anyone asks about the game, just tell them it'll be something to look forward to. I'm sure Noiz already knows that too, but why don't you remind him when you see him?"

"I'm not going to see him!" Aoba protests. Sei only laughs and waves at Aoba as he walks away like he knows exactly where Aoba is heading.

Which, Aoba thinks later when he's standing on the landing of the floor Noiz's office is on, is the terribly unfair part of being a twin. Sei always seems to know more than he ought to about everything Aoba's feeling. 

But it's probably for the better that Sei isn't around right now, or he'd ask Aoba why the door to Noiz's office is unnerving him. Except he'd likely realise before Aoba that it isn't the door making him nervous, it's talking to Noiz again, dumb as that is. There’s no reason why he should be nervous. None at all. Aoba tells himself that over and over. 

The door swings open before Aoba has a chance to knock on it, Noiz stepping out. They stare mutely at each other for several seconds.

"Hey," Aoba finally says. "I was just about to knock on your door!" 

"Yeah, I noticed." Noiz pulls the door shut with a quiet click, and nods at it. "You wanna try again?"

"Haha, really funny, Noiz." Rolling his eyes, Aoba crosses his arms. "But good timing, I wanted to talk to you."

Once Noiz realises that Aoba isn't about to budge, he raises an eyebrow, the piercings catching the light. "Go on."

"First of all, Sei told me to remind you that since the game news sort of got leaked, to not say anything else about it." Aoba wonders what constitutes as not saying anything else about it. Does being seen together in public again count? Or does that lend itself to an entirely different breed of rumour? "Second of all, why didn't you tell me it was your birthday when we had dinner together?! You even paid!"

Noiz makes a discomfited noise, looking away from Aoba and studying the hall to his right with interest. "It wasn't that important."

"What do you mean, it isn't that important? It's important!" Maybe Noiz is one of those people who don't like to celebrate it. 

"Why?" Noiz asks, fixing his eyes on Aoba. 

"Why? 'cause... it's the day you were born, that's why," Aoba says slowly. "Isn't it normal to be happy about it?"

"Plenty of people are born every day," Noiz points out. "What’s so special about me?"

"But it's different," Aoba protests. "It's supposed to be a day for you and the people who care about you to celebrate." 

"The people who care about me?" A wrinkle forms between Noiz's brow as he frowns at Aoba, and then fades. He then asks, "Did you enjoy it? The time we spent together in that place."

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't count--"

"Then that’s good enough for me," Noiz says with a certain finality.

Aoba falls silent, trying to decide how to solve this stalemate. In time, he shakes his head and smiles at Noiz. "But it isn't good enough for me. And it'd make me happy if you let me make it up to you." 

"Why?" Noiz asks, and Aoba groans.

"You sure like to ask that a lot, don't you..." Sighing, Aoba ducks his head. "I told you already, didn't I? I want to celebrate it-- the fact that you were born." 

His face hot, he studies his feet, and then remembers something else he was supposed to say. "S-so!! Let me take you out for dinner soon, when you're free." ¨

"You're weird," Noiz says, and then his feet come into Aoba's view. His shoes are green and have a fur trim, and Aoba wrinkles his nose at them. They're ugly. And then his view changes when Noiz tips up his face, cupping it with his hand. He's close enough for his breath to ghost Aoba's mouth in between words. "Fine. You can make it up to me, but I don't want dinner." 

Aoba grabs hold of Noiz's wrist, pulling his hand from his face, eyes flicking around, trying desperately not to blush. The hallway is empty. "Okay then, what do you want?"

"Come to Germany with me." 

“What?”

"I have to go back to take care of some business. Come with me," Noiz repeats patiently.

Aoba gapes at him, slack-jawed. There's an audible click when he snaps his mouth back shut. "I can't just take off to overseas with you!" 

"Why not?" Noiz asks, his expression growing mutinous. Aoba resists the urge to smack his forehead with his palm. 

"Why not-- I have things to do here too, in case you haven't noticed! We're in the middle of production, and... and you know I hate flying." 

"So? Just leave it to that other sound coordinator, the one who smiles too much." Noiz nudges his nose against Aoba's. "As for the flight... I can keep you busy during it." 

"Who, Clear? We're supposed to be working _together_." He doesn't want to know what Noiz means by "keep him busy" on the flight, but more importantly, this is way more than a return dinner. What does Noiz even want him to go to Germany with him for anyway? Aoba seriously doesn't understand him at all, in the end. 

"You can take care of whatever you need to while you're there too," Noiz says, his free hand dropping from Aoba's face to his wrist. "And if money's the problem, I'll pay for the ticket." 

"I don't need you to pay for it!!" Aoba protests. Money _isn't_ the problem. "But this isn't exactly-- can't we just take a rain check instead? You really want me to go with you?"

Noiz exhales in a fussy, irritated sound. He turns his head to the side, and his grip on Aoba's wrist tightens fractionally. "Idiot. That's why I'm asking."

"Asking... as opposed to what?" Noiz doesn't answer, and Aoba frowns at him. "You can't make me go with you if I don't want to!"

"Can't I?" Noiz says. 

Aoba scowls at him, drawing himself up to his full height. "You can't!"

"Bet I could if I tried." 

"You can't make me because I _want_ to go!" 

Eyes widening, Noiz doesn't say anything for a moment, and then he looks puzzled . "Then what's the problem?"

"There isn't a problem!" Aoba snaps. "I'm an adult, I can buy my own plane ticket and go to Germany if I want!" 

"Okay," Noiz says blankly. "So you're coming?"

"Yes-- no- I mean, I am! But not right away. I have to take care of things here first," Aoba says, his head spinning. "So I'll see you there."

"Okay," Noiz repeats before he leans in and kisses Aoba. It's soft and fleeting because Aoba promptly yanks himself away once he snaps out of his daze, sputtering at Noiz, asking him what the hell he's doing, they're at _work_.

But long after he hurries back to the recording studio, the feel of Noiz’s mouth lingers on his and he finds himself completely unable to concentrate for the rest of the day.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
And that's the story of how a few days and one international flight later, Aoba finds himself disoriented and his neck aching from sleeping awkwardly on the plane in Munich airport. He doesn't speak any German, and so it's with a mishmash of the English Aoba does know and various empathetic gestures that he gets through customs. Luckily, Virus has arranged for both accommodations and a car to take him there, along with a couple impromptu, small live shows scattered throughout the duration of his stay. He figures that it'd be good to have something to occupy himself with aside from sightseeing while Noiz is preoccupied with his own affairs.

Noiz offered to pick him up from the airport; Aoba declined. But they trade a series of texts back and forth.

Following a surprisingly restful night undisturbed by jet lag, Aoba wakes up early the next morning, feeling refreshed. Sometime during the night while he was sleeping, Noiz sent him one final text. It's directions to what seems to be a restaurant. A map is attached. Aoba lets Ren handle it, ruffling his fur up affectionately and chatting with him as he putters around his room getting ready.

Noiz's map leads him through Munich, Aoba running late because he can't stop looking left and right, trying to take in as much of the city as he can. He's never been to Europe before, and the atmosphere as well as the streets are fundamentally different to anywhere he's ever been. So by the time he comes to a stop in front of a bustling cafe, patrons spilling out of the shop and taking advantage of the good weather to sit outdoors, he's out of breath from speed-walking.

Fortunately, he spots Noiz sitting outdoors with his back to him in record time, blonde hair shining in the sun. Making a beeline for him, Aoba flops down on the chair across from him, spilling out a breathless apology. "Sorry I'm late!"

"Oh!" says a voice that isn't Noiz's.

Aoba freezes, staring at the stranger in front of him who certainly bears a resemblance to Noiz, with his blonde hair and something about the line of his nose and the green of his eyes. But it isn't Noiz. 

"I... ah... sorry, I thought you were someone else," Aoba stammers, wondering if he should get up and leave. Then he realises his mistake, fumbling out his apology clumsily. "En...entschuldigung…”

"Aoba-san?" the stranger says in Japanese with a sunny smile that would never appear on Noiz's face. Aoba's transfixed by it. "I've heard a lot about you! And don't worry, people tell me that I resemble Noiz quite often."

"You're here," Noiz appears as if on cue. He drops into the wicker chair adjacent to Aoba, and Aoba turns towards him. Aoba blinks. If he hadn't heard him speak, he would've thought Noiz was yet another stranger, because Noiz is dressed in a dove grey three piece suit complete with tie, the luxurious material hugging every contour of his body in a way that screams of expensive tailoring. In fact, if it weren't for the piercings on his face, Noiz almost looks proper. Suddenly Aoba feels underdressed in his worn jean shorts and plain white button down.

"Uh," Aoba says eloquently. What pops out of his mouth instead of asking who is also at the table with them is, "Nice suit, did you just come from a meeting?" 

"Yeah." Noiz nods, flipping open the menu in front of him. He glances from Aoba to the third occupant of the table, who's clearly just barely restraining himself from speaking. "Did you introduce yourself yet, Theo?" 

"Not yet, I was about to!" Theo pouts at Noiz before he redirects his attention to Aoba. "I'm Theo, Noiz's brother. It's very nice to meet you, Aoba-san." 

Aoba wonders what the point of introducing himself to someone who already knows his name is, but does it out of habit regardless. And then it hits him. "Wait, you're his _brother_? No wonder you guys look so alike!"

More importantly, Noiz never mentioned he had a brother, though the things Aoba does know about him could be counted on one hand. 

"We don't look that similar," Noiz interrupts, sullen. 

"You do, you totally do!" Aoba insists, looking back and forth between them. 

"Aoba-san thought I was you just now," Theo tells Noiz, and Noiz's frown deepens.

"Well, your hair is the same colour, but I think Noiz's is shorter," Aoba says, trying one final time to decipher the menu and failing. The words are incomprehensibly long. "What's good here?" 

"Everything," Theo and Noiz say in unison, and then glance at each other with a smile. Aoba's transfixed by the scene and by the fondness in the curve of Noiz's mouth as he directs it at Theo. 

"I can order for you," Noiz offers. Aoba snaps out of his reveries and flashes Noiz a grin. 

"Thanks, that'd be great. I can't read anything on here. Just get whatever you like best," he explains sheepishly. "Speaking of which... how come you guys can speak Japanese?"

"Our grandmother was from Japan," Theo says. "And our family does business there quite often still, so we grew up learning it." 

"Your family, huh?" He glances at Noiz, whose face is blank as he waves down a waiter and proceeds to order, with Aoba interjecting at one point to ask Noiz to get him an iced coffee. "Are you hiding any more siblings around here that I don't know about?"

"I'm not. And I wasn't hiding him." Finished with the waiter and passing him off to Theo, Noiz returns to Aoba. His foot nudges against Aoba's sneaker, and there is a prolonged pause before he reluctantly confesses, "I don't talk to the rest of them." 

Wanting to pry but knowing better than to do so, Aoba frowns and lets it go with an _oh_. In an attempt to ease Noiz's mood, Aoba teases, "Then Theo doesn't have to worry about competing to be your favourite brother. Lucky him!"

Noiz's eyes focus on Theo, who's chatting with the waiter. "...Theo is--"

"I'm what?" Theo chimes in, unfolding the cloth napkin from the table and smoothing it onto his lap. Aoba does the same, and Noiz follows suit shortly after. 

"You guys are close," Aoba says, laughing. "It's kind of nice to see. You know Noiz is always skulking off by himself when he gets the chance?"

"But you don't let him, do you, Aoba-san?" Theo looks anxiously from Aoba to Noiz, who is starting to look as though he regrets bringing them together. 

"I try to eat with him when I can," Aoba admits. 

"More like you drag me off whenever you want," Noiz points out.

"I'm glad he does," Theo tells Noiz with a surprising amount of tartness. "You don't eat properly when you're working." 

None of the offense Aoba expected on Noiz's part comes, and there's nothing but the briefest jolt of guilt crossing Noiz's expression that he almost thinks he imagined. Noiz pauses, and says, "I don't really mind it."

"Then he must really like you, Aoba-san! Thank you for taking care of my brother while he's working with you." Delighted, Theo reaches out and clasps Aoba's hands in his, beaming at him. Aoba's startled, but smiles back tentatively at Theo, giving him a returning squeeze. They're completely different from each other, him and Noiz. 

"Don't mention it, he isn't _that_ bad as far as company goes." Noiz is surprisingly good company in fact, but for the sake of teasing him and because Noiz looks cute when he's pouting (which he is), Aoba doesn’t mention it out loud.

There's movement beneath the table; Aoba doesn't realise it until Noiz is twining his ankle around Aoba's calf, hooking it around and running it up his shin. Noiz is staring at him. "...only not that bad?" 

Flustered, Aoba kicks Noiz, the cutlery jolting from the action and he tucks both of his legs closer to him. "Sorry, muscle spasm."

Luckily, the food arrives at that moment and cuts short any argument that would’ve risen between Noiz and Aoba. Theo remains oblivious to it, enthusiastically pointing out and explaining the dishes as they’re brought to the table. Aoba tries a bit of this and a bit of that, and then halfway through the meal, realises that there’s an overwhelming amount of sweets compared to savoury dishes. Glancing at Noiz, who is preoccupied with stuffing a huge bite of pie into his mouth, Aoba stifles a snicker. Noiz has a serious sweet tooth, doesn’t he? Just like a kid.

Carving out a bite of pie from Noiz’s plate, Aoba pops it into his mouth. It’s good. “So, Theo, are you guys around the same age?” 

“I’m younger,” Theo says. “By two years-- ah, three right now, since Noiz’s birthday passed recently! I’m seventeen.”

Aoba chokes on his coffee, sitting up straighter once he’s stopped coughing. “Then that means-- Noiz just turned twenty?!” 

“That’s right,” Theo says. There’s a vague noise of affirmation from Noiz. “You didn’t know, Aoba-san?”

“No- you’re just-- wow, both of you are younger than I thought,” Aoba says, trying to cover up his surprise. He didn’t even know how old Noiz was, and he only learned of his birthday a few days ago. Staring down at his plate, he wonders what he’s doing here again, sitting at a cafe in a country thousands of kilometres from home with a guy he barely knows and his younger brother and making idle conversation. 

But his thoughts are interrupted by a warm hand on his thigh. Aoba follows it up to the crisp cuff of Noiz’s shirt and then to his face, opening his mouth to say something when Noiz squeezes him warningly and then drags his fingers upwards. Noiz’s eyes flick towards Theo, and Aoba glares at Noiz, bringing his heel down on Noiz’s foot. 

He leans into Noiz’s space, hissing, “ _Quit it_.”

Noiz has the audacity to give him a perfectly bland look, the only giveaway of how he’s enjoying Aoba’s discomfort the faintest kick up at the corner of his mouth. Theo doesn’t seem to notice, but he’s glancing at the Coil on his wrist, eyebrows shooting up. 

“Oh no, look at the time!” Dismay crosses his features. “I have to go back now or I’ll be late. I’m sorry, Noiz, Aoba.”

“It’s okay,” Aoba says, gritting his teeth when Noiz grazes his fingers over the front of his shorts and rising to his feet so hastily that he nearly knocks the chair over. “I was just thinking that I should get going too.”

“I’ll drive you,” Noiz cuts in. “Theo has a ride waiting for him.” 

“It was very nice to meet you, Aoba.” Smiling at him, Theo rounds the table to grasp Aoba’s hand again, and they shake. 

“You too,” Aoba says, smiling back at him. “I had a good time, we should do it again before I leave.” 

“Yes, let’s!”

Making his way through the crowd, Theo turns and waves enthusiastically before disappearing in the distance. Aoba drops his arm, and catches a flash of movement from the side of his eye just in time-- Noiz was waving too, he thinks in surprise. Then he remembers his irritation and frowns at him. “I don’t need a ride, I can take the train back. And what the hell were you playing at?”

“Nothing,” Noiz says, a sullen note entering his voice. “Invite me if you’re going to go out with Theo again.”

“After _that_? No way!” The bill paid, Aoba starts to walk from the cafe. Noiz dogs his heels, grabbing his wrist and taking the lead and pulling Aoba across the street to where a sleek black sports car is parked. 

“It’s almost rush hour,” he says. “Get in; I’ll drive you.” 

“I’m _fine_ ,” Aoba insists. They have a stare-down that lasts until a passing car nearly swipes Aoba. Noiz raises his eyebrow at him.

Aoba hesitates, and then gets in the car.


	5. Bleed Air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS PART TWO OF A TWO PART UPDATE, if you haven't read the previous chapter yet, please go read it!! it's new too!!

“This isn’t my hotel,” Aoba says, peering out his window at the street Noiz parks on. The surroundings are unfamiliar, and it’s a distinctly residential neighbourhood. Large trees line the road along with buildings, their facades distinctly Neo-Renaissance in architecture. He gets out of the car, the sound of a door slamming shut on the other side indicates Noiz has done the same. 

“It isn’t.” Noiz stands beside the car and Aoba.

“What?” Aoba’s brows knit together and he whirls around to face Noiz. “Okay then, where the hell are we?”

“My place,” Noiz says, latching onto Aoba’s wrist again and guiding him towards the oak door. Aoba’s feet stumble after him before his mind has a chance to catch up, and by the time he digs his heels in, they’re already inside the foyer. In a stark contrast to the building’s outside appearance, the inside is wholly modern. 

“Noiz!! Quit it- quit yanking me everywhere and doing whatever you want without explaining yourself first! It’s seriously pissing me off.” Shaking himself free, Aoba crosses his arms, his frown evolving into a full on scowl at Noiz. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just _maybe_ , I wanted to go back to my hotel?”

“I’ll take you back after,” Noiz says casually. “What are you so upset about?”

“ _What am I so upset about--_ ” Aoba sputters, nearly bursting a vein right then and there in the fancy, upscale lobby of Noiz’s apartment building before remembering himself and taking a deep breath. ...Eight, nine, ten… He marches towards the elevator instead after he finishes counting. “I’ll tell you what I’m _upset about_ as soon as we get inside your apartment.”

With that, Noiz gets in the elevator beside Aoba and they ride in another bout of uncomfortable silence to the top floor, the awkward air maintaining itself all the way into Noiz’s apartment. 

The first impression Aoba gets of the inside after Noiz opens the door is that it’s spacious, easily twice as big as his own place back in Midorijima. The second is that maybe it only looks big because of the sparse decor, the apartment almost suspiciously clean for a guy who lives by himself. Aoba forgets to be angry, staring around at his surroundings. All of the furniture and fixtures and appliances are just as contemporary as the lobby downstairs, and he involuntarily steps deeper inside after removing his shoes.

Beyond the living room is a set of French doors, white curtains opened around them, the view leading out to a lush courtyard below and the sprawl of the city further out. While he’s staring down at them in awe, Noiz approaches from behind, boxing Aoba in between the balcony doors and himself. He wraps his arms around Aoba, holding him by the waist and pressing his face into the junction of Aoba’s neck and shoulder.

Aoba rests his hands on his arms, unsure of whether to pluck them from him or not. Before he can do anything, Noiz exhales in a long, shuddery and warm breath. "You really came." 

There's something in the way he mumbles it that has Aoba reconsidering his actions, some of his ire leaking from him and softening the bluntness of his words. He doesn’t need to ask what Noiz is referring to. "Of course I did, I said I would."

"But you didn't have to," Noiz says. 

"I wanted to," Aoba counters. "And I'm making up for your birthday. Except I'm starting to think that you need a lesson on manners more than you need someone to treat you to food."

"...they're a waste of time,” Noiz grumbles.

"If you had any manners, you'd know that groping me under the table in front of your brother isn't appropriate!!"

"It was your fault."

"How was it my fault?!" 

Aside from a hard exhale from Noiz, there's no answer. Mind whirring busily, Aoba attempts to parse Noiz's actions from this afternoon into something coherent and understandable. The seconds tick by before everything clicks into place, and Aoba jolts in Noiz's arms. 

"You're _jealous_ ," Aoba says, incredulity and laughter threatening to spill over into his voice. "Of Theo! Of your brother!" 

"I'm not," Noiz insists, his arms tightening around Aoba.

"Liar," crows Aoba, trying to twist around and force Noiz to meet his eyes. Disturbed by Aoba's wriggling, Noiz gives up his hiding place reluctantly and glares at him. There's something that could almost be called a pout on his lips. "I can't believe this, you're acting like a kid because you're mad that I was paying more attention to Theo than you."

"I'm not jealous." Who does Noiz think he's kidding? As if he reads Aoba's mind, Noiz reluctantly adds with a gnash of teeth, "...don't like it. What was with that, touching someone else so much around me?"

"Touching?" Tilting his head to one side quizzically, Aoba frowns. Noiz's words are bordering on offensive, but Aoba thinks he's beginning to make sense of both them and his actions, finally. "What, you mean when we shook hands? That's normal!"

"Not that," Noiz says, seizing one of Aoba's hands. "This." 

Or not.

Drawing a blank at first, the realisation gradually dawns on him. Back at the cafe, Theo certainly did grab hold of Aoba's hands. But it'd been nothing more than a friendly gesture, or so he thought. Yet when Aoba compares the warmth of Noiz's hand clasped in his and his gaze sharp on Aoba's face, to Theo’s… well, they’re entirely different. Noiz squeezes his hand gently as though in admonishment for Aoba thinking about someone else while he’s in front of him.

"You're not allowed to do this with anyone else," Noiz declares, and Aoba bristles automatically. 

"I can do whatever I want," he says, drawing himself up to his full height. "You can't tell me what to do!"

Noiz's brows knit together as he stares at Aoba, and they're back to square one. Neither of them blink. Surprisingly, it's Noiz who looks away first, his eyes skittering off to the side to examine the linen curtains, fluttering lightly in the breeze of a cracked window in the living room. Why is it that whenever he thinks he's starting to get Noiz that something like this happens? And why is Noiz always so recalcitrant with his words? The frustration simmering in Aoba, he stubbornly refuses to say another word until Noiz explains himself.

"...like," he mumbles. 

"Huh?" 

Noiz looks irritated about having to repeat himself, but he does anyway. "Like. You said you liked me." 

Aoba opens his mouth, and then closes it. He chooses his words carefully next, thrown for a loop. "I do like you, Noiz. But to be honest, you're frustrating the hell out of me right now." 

And that goes for about 70% of the time they spend together, he doesn't add. Never mind that Aoba himself isn't sure what the extent of his like for Noiz is. Like like, or _like_ like? Watching Noiz, who continues to frown and seems to be searching the air for the right thing to say, Aoba feels an irregular thump to his heart throw off its normal beat. He clears his throat. "We--"

"I like you too," Noiz says, and Aoba's voice dies in his throat. "So don't do those things with anyone else." 

There's a faint pink tint on his cheeks, the colour darkening as Aoba wordlessly gapes at him as his heart starts to pound in his ears. He starts to blush as well, staring down at his shoes. This isn't the first confession he's had, but something about the brazen yet shy manner with which Noiz declares it sends him reeling like a teenager with his first crush. 

"I thought this was just a fling," Aoba says finally. 

"No." Noiz replies immediately, pulling Aoba around so they're face to face."Unless... you want it to be?"

His voice is uncertain, and for the first time in a while, Aoba can clearly read the tentative hope and insecurity hidden behind Noiz's expression. Twining his fingers through Noiz's, Aoba returns the squeeze from earlier.

"You really are a kid," Aoba says. "And since when did you have trouble saying what you want? _I_ want to get to know you more, Noiz."

Noiz perks up, practically sweeping Aoba up into a crushing hug against his chest, their interlocked hands dropping to one side. He looks Aoba in the eye. "I thought that you would lose interest in me after the first time. But you didn't. And now, I won't let you."

The brash confidence in Noiz's voice startles a laugh out of Aoba, and he reaches up to flick Noiz's nose. "Those are some big words from a guy getting all worked up over some innocent touching earlier." 

As Noiz falls into a sullen silence, Aoba laughs again, feeling like a weight has been lifted off his chest. "Seriously, Theo's way too young for me. And if you were gonna get jealous of him, then why did you bring him along?"

"I wasn't jealous. I wanted you to meet him," Noiz says. 

"Hmmm." Aoba smirks at him. Noiz kisses him before he gets the chance to add anything else in, sweeping him up in a dizzyingly deep kiss that has Aoba gasping when he pulls away for breath. 

Noiz already looks too pleased with himself as it is, but Aoba decides to say what he wants to say anyway. 

"Don't worry," he says as he rests his forehead against Noiz's. "Theo's nice, but you're the one I like."

The breeze picks up again as they look at each other, sending the curtains billowing over them in a cloud of white. Noiz's eyes are softer and the curve of his mouth more gentle than Aoba has ever seen it, and he reaches up to run his thumb over the curve of Aoba's cheek. 

"Yeah," he says. 

They stay like that for a while, clasped loosely in each other's arms without saying a word until Noiz stirs and prompts Aoba to open his eyes. Bringing Aoba’s hand to his mouth, Noiz kisses the back of his knuckles gently in a gesture that has Aoba’s mouth going dry and his heart pounding in his ears. 

He doesn’t protest as Noiz pulls him out of the living room, down the hall in a trail of discarded clothing all the way into the bedroom. He doesn’t protest when Noiz pushes him back onto the bed, crawling over him and licking and sucking a wet trail down Aoba’s throat. He doesn’t protest when he proceeds to do the same thing with every inch of skin he can reach until Aoba is gasping and arching up into Noiz. 

What he does have a lot to say about is how Noiz mercilessly teases him, lavishing his attention over every part of his body but where Aoba wants it most. After the third time Noiz rubs his cheek against his cock and then proceeds to bite at the inside of his thigh to add a third, darkening mark to the two already there instead of taking him into his mouth, Aoba props himself up on one elbow. Panting, he seizes Noiz by the tie he’s still wearing, yanking him away from his task. 

To his credit, Noiz doesn’t react with more than an arched eyebrow and an unbearably smug smirk. Running his hand down the flat, flushed expanse of Aoba’s abdomen, Noiz stops at his hip, and Aoba holds his breath-- only to exhale it in a huff when Noiz moves on to finger one of the marks he’s left on the pale, delicate skin on Aoba’s thigh. “It looks good on you.”

“You’re having _way_ too much fun with this,” Aoba informs him, trying not to look at the bruises blossoming there. “And why are you still wearing this?” He tugs at the tie again. 

“Not my fault you bruise so easily,” Noiz says, sliding up to kiss Aoba. His cock slides against Aoba’s, leaving Aoba pushing his hips up in a futile search for friction only to have Noiz hover just out of reach. There’s something both affectionate and hungry in Noiz’s eyes as he cards his fingers through Aoba’s hair. “You want me to take it off? Or… do you want something else?”

The colour rising on Aoba’s cheeks, he turns his head to the side. Last time, he’d gotten caught up in the heat of the moment and said a number of embarrassing things he wouldn’t have normally. Today, even with the lingering heat of Noiz’s touch everywhere on his body, he can’t get the words past his lips.

“Cat got your tongue?” Noiz teases, and then reaches down to palm Aoba’s cock, smearing the pre-cum on all of his hand. Aoba whines, bucking into his touch. “I won’t know what you want unless you tell me.” 

“I-isn’t it obvious?” he snaps, and Noiz has the gall to laugh. 

“Just checking,” he says before sliding back down on the bed. Aoba’s voice dies in his throat after Noiz grabs him by the thighs, sure he’s about to start teasing him again. Instead, Noiz draws them up so they’re bent at the knee and spread, glancing up at Aoba before he engulfs the tip of his cock with his mouth. Hips jerking, Aoba utters a short, helpless whimper as he flops back down to the mattress, his eyes sinking shut at the feel of the intoxicating heat around him. 

Noiz sucks at him wetly for a while, fingers wrapped around the rest of Aoba’s cock and stroking languidly. And then he starts to take him deeper into his mouth, inch by inch until Aoba can feel his dick hit the back of his throat, his fingers scrabbling at the sheets as he watches Noiz, wide-eyed and stunned. “ _Noiz--_ ”

Looking up at him, Noiz’s eyes half-lidded and he’s clearly pleased with his response. It’s almost agonising, the torturous slide as Noiz pulls his mouth off of him with a pop, licking his lips. “You taste good.” 

“Don’t talk while you’re-- while you’re doing that!” Mortified, Aoba drops his head back down, his eyes sinking shut when Noiz laughs softly and starts to run his tongue over his cock in long stripes. The piercing drags along the sensitive underside, and every so often, Noiz swirls it over the head. It’s all Aoba can do to keep from crying out as he struggles to push up against Noiz only to be pinned down firmly by Noiz’s arm. 

There’s a pause, followed by the sound of Noiz popping open the cap of the lube that he’d thrown onto the bed along with them shortly after they entered the bedroom and before he began his conquest of Aoba’s body. The cold press of his fingers slide into Aoba at the same time that Noiz closes his mouth over him again. And just like that, with his fingers slowly opening Aoba up and his mouth on his dick, Noiz drags Aoba closer and closer to his limit. 

It’s when Noiz crooks his fingers just right against his prostate as he’s got Aoba deep in his throat that Aoba starts to see stars behind his closed eyelids. Then Noiz rumbles low in his throat and the vibrations run up Aoba until his voice crescendos in a garble of moans and Noiz’s name as he cums. Noiz doesn’t pull back immediately. Cheeks hollowed around Aoba, he sucks out the last of his orgasm indulgently until Aoba squirms away, oversensitive and panting.

“There was a lot,” Noiz comments. Without the energy to protest, Aoba only groans and rolls over, burying his face into the pillows. 

“You’re seriously shameless,” he says, hiding his hot face.

Noiz’s answer is a low laugh, and he runs his index finger down Aoba’s spine to the small of his back. There, he splays his palm out over him. The mattress shifts under his weight as he settles himself over Aoba, and he squeezes Aoba’s ass playfully, eliciting a yelp from Aoba. Something hot and hard grinds itself against him, and Aoba shoots Noiz a look over his shoulder. 

“Wait,” he starts, and then stops. Noiz sends him a questioning look that isn’t sincere in the least, and Aoba scowls, mumbling, “I can’t yet.” 

“That’s fine,” Noiz says, continuing to slide his cock over Aoba’s ass. Aoba shudders when Noiz drops his head down to repeat the same movement he did earlier with his finger, only in reverse with his tongue. He purrs against his ear, “Roll over for me.” 

Compliant, Aoba does as Noiz asks. He begins to flush again, from his face down to his neck to his chest as Noiz’s eyes rove over him. Unable to bear it in silence, he snaps, “What?”

“The view’s nice,” Noiz grins. Smoothing his hands over Aoba’s chest, he stops at his nipples, rolling the pads of his thumbs over them experimentally. Since when was he so sensitive there? He’s rewarded with a sharp intake of breath from Aoba, who regrets it the moment it leaves his mouth. The interest in Noiz’s eyes sharpen, the suggestiveness dripping from his voice as he speaks. “I want to see everything. The faces you make and the way your body reacts, so I’m gonna take my time with you today.”

Something stirs in Aoba, and he meets Noiz’s eyes boldly. “...go ahead. It’s still early, isn’t it? It’s fine.” 

“Oh?” Aoba didn’t think it was possible, but Noiz’s eyes take on a near unholy gleam. “Then you can’t complain later.” 

“Complain? Ah--” Noiz returns to the task (literally) at hand, which is toying with Aoba’s chest. His touch is soft at first, explorative and just enough to have Aoba shivering in interest. Then Noiz switches it up, pinching at them gently with thumb and forefinger, earning a faint _nnh!_ from Aoba. 

Repeating the action harder, Noiz watches as Aoba’s face tightens. “You like it rough, don’t you?” 

“I don’t,” Aoba protests to no avail. 

“ _Liar_ ,” Noiz growls playfully, dipping his head down to lave at Aoba’s right nipple and suck on it. A whine escapes Aoba when Noiz carefully nibbles at the nub, and he clamps his mouth shut again, trying to hold his sounds in. But it’s already too late. “What an honest body.” 

Aoba can’t deny it, not when his body betrays him and his dick is stirring again. He can only hope Noiz doesn’t notice, but those hopes are promptly dashed when Noiz looks down, chuckling. At least he doesn’t make another comment, choosing to delve his fingers back inside Aoba instead. 

“Nngh…” There’s no pain when Noiz enters, only a fullness that Aoba’s body recognises. 

“This place is ready, but I don’t mind waiting for a little longer,” Noiz murmurs as he scissors Aoba open experimentally, and Aoba pushes down on his fingers with a long, breathless groan. His hands have relocated to Noiz’s back, and he digs his nails in. Noiz’s mouth goes lax, a haziness entering his eyes. 

“Stop talking,” Aoba grumbles. 

A _heh_ leaves Noiz, but he doesn’t say anything further. Instead, he returns to nipping and sucking at Aoba’s nipples, fingers leaving him in favour of working his fist up and down Aoba’s cock. It doesn’t take long before Aoba’s hard again, Noiz pulling himself free to admire his handiwork. Aoba’s nipples are red and almost swollen, another hickey darkening just above his collarbone that Aoba hopes will be hidden by the collar of his shirt, or he’ll give Noiz a scolding later.

“Good?” Noiz asks, and Aoba’s pleased by the breathlessness in his voice. 

“Yeah,” Aoba agrees. After a moment’s hesitation, he parts his legs, brushing his fingers over the back of Noiz’s neck, over the piercings at his nape. 

“...an invitation? I’ll take it.” Hauling Aoba towards him by the back of his knees, Noiz wraps his hand loosely around his cock. With his head propped up on the pillows, Aoba has a clear view of everything without having to lift his head, hair splayed out around him in a blue halo. From what he can see, Noiz looks almost painfully hard. The piercings on his dick are glistening from the clear liquid that’s spilled down him. Aoba swallows. 

Lining himself up with Aoba, he pushes in slowly. Both of them sigh when Noiz is fully seated in Aoba. Resting his hands on Aoba’s hips, Noiz pulls out at an angle that has Aoba feeling every bump and curve of his piercings before sliding back in. With a jolt, Aoba realises they forgot to use a condom. 

“Shit,” he swears. “Wait, Noiz.”

“What?”

“The condom!” Noiz hasn’t stopped moving in long, deep thrusts that send a sweet ache up Aoba’s entire body. 

“Don’t need one,” Noiz presses his face to the curve of his neck, kissing Aoba wetly. “I’m clean. What about you?”

“I-I am, but,” stammering, Aoba’s once again distracted by Noiz. “Are you sure?”

Stilling, Noiz pulls back and gazes down at Aoba. Finally, he says, “It’s fine for me. You?”

Staring up at Noiz, Aoba searches Noiz’s face. “...I trust you.” 

Noiz’s eyes widen minutely, a gesture so small that Aoba nearly misses it. And then he’s snapping his hips back against Aoba and all thought flees his brain, Aoba curling his legs around Noiz’s waist tightly. Despite the suddenness of Noiz’s movement, the thrust isn’t rough. But it’s deep enough for Aoba to dig his heels into the sheets with a hoarse shout that’s swallowed halfway by Noiz in a heat soaked kiss. 

Rocking into Aoba with the same deliberate strokes, Noiz suddenly changes his angle until each push in has the piercing at the head of his cock rubbing against Aoba’s sweet spot and then gliding past it. Tossing his head back and exposing the line of his throat, Aoba moves back against Noiz desperately.

“Is that good, Aoba?” Noiz asks, seizing Aoba’s neglected cock and squeezing it firmly. Aoba sobs, nodding blindly with his eyes squeezed shut. “But I bet I can make you feel even better.” 

Gently untangling Aoba’s legs from around his waist, Noiz rearranges them until they’re slung over his shoulders and Aoba’s nearly folded in half before sliding his dick back in him. Aoba thought it had been good before, but the depth of the previous position didn’t even compare to now. He can feel Noiz’s balls slapping against his skin each time he enters him, and the piercings continue to drag from his entrance to inside. Noiz has an undeniable knack for aiming his thrusts against his prostate until Aoba is raking his hands down his back, leaving red marks in his wake.

“There,” he whimpers, “There- ah, _ah_ , nngh-- Noiz!” 

“You’re making such a lewd face,” Noiz whispers. 

“Nn--!!” Embarrassed, Aoba’s hands fly from Noiz and he crosses his arms over his face. 

A throaty chuckle escapes Noiz, and he grabs Aoba’s wrists, pinning them down on either side of Aoba’s head. “Don’t hide.”

Aoba remains stubbornly defiant, turning his head to the side only for Noiz to nudge him back. Head hovering barely inches from Aoba’s, Noiz gazes down at him, a savage, carnal warmth in his eyes. Aoba’s blush darkens and deepens, and left without anywhere to run, he grinds his dick against Noiz instead, trying to aim for the piercings at his navel again. 

The evenness of Noiz’s pace is beginning to drive him mad; the tempo so steady and moderate that Aoba grows dizzy, feeling as though he’s drowning in warmth. In Noiz’s warmth as he plunges into him, filling him up over and over again. But it isn’t enough, he wants to feel his hands on him.

“Noiz,” he says hoarsely, lashes fluttering low over his eyes shyly. 

Raising an eyebrow in acknowledgement, Noiz makes no move to release Aoba. 

Words catching in his throat, Aoba swallows audibly. Somehow or the other, he manages to make his voice cooperate. “...touch me.” 

Noiz pauses halfway in Aoba, the corners of his mouth curving up ever so slightly. And then he shakes his head. “I want to see you come without being touched.” 

With that, he fucks into Aoba faster, stealing his breath and leaving him with no room to protest. He can’t do it, he wants to tell him. It’s impossible. Aoba’s cock continues to push up against Noiz’s piercings, aching almost painfully. But Noiz senses his obvious frustration and leans further over him so he can grind into him better, nipping at Aoba’s jaw. Every thrust of his cock into Aoba sends an electric jolt up his spine, and before long he’s moaning again, seeking out and meeting Noiz’s mouth in a hurried clash. 

Noiz is quieter than Aoba, he notices. Or maybe it’s because he’s so much louder that he drowns out the quiet gasps and groans he hears from Noiz at interval. Aoba doesn’t have time to dwell on it. The tension in his stomach coils to an unbearable tightness; Noiz’s movements begin to grow erratic and rougher.

“Haah, ah- Noiz--” A particularly rough thrust is what pitches Aoba over the edge, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as his orgasm seizes him for the second time today and he clenches down around Noiz, spilling messily on both of them. 

Noiz groans at the sudden pressure and his grip on Aoba’s wrists grow tight, eyes lidding as he continues to pound into Aoba through his climax. Aoba is whimpering again, chest heaving and all that leaves his mouth is _ah, ah, ah_! A heat floods him as Noiz cums, Noiz’s eyes growing darker as he rubs Aoba raw through it, pulling out only when every last drop has been wrung from him. 

Aoba can faintly feel it dripping from between his legs, but he’s too exhausted to care. Letting go of Aoba, Noiz brushes his mouth against Aoba’s gently before they settle down side by side to catch their breaths. Pressed snug against his side, Noiz mouths at Aoba’s shoulder. 

Once Aoba regains some control over himself, he abruptly sits up. Reaches out for one of the pillows on his side, he whacks Noiz across the torso with it. 

“Hey-- what was that for?” Aside from the indignance tinging Noiz’s tone, he seems otherwise unaffected by the assault.

On the other hand, Aoba reclaims the pillow immediately and crushes it to his chest, hiding his face into it. “That was for making me do something weird!” 

“Weird?” Picking himself up from the mattress as well, Noiz leans against Aoba, tugging at the pillow to no avail. Clutching tighter to it, Aoba grumbles into it. Changing his approach, Noiz nudges his nose against Aoba’s hair until he finds his ear, kissing it. “But you liked it.” 

“Shut up,” Aoba groans, trying to ignore the stickiness that’s spread all over his stomach and inside him, evidence of how right Noiz is. 

“Hmmm.” The sheets rustle as Noiz shifts, pulling back to look at Aoba. Aoba peeks up at him from the cover of his pillow shield. There’s a mischievous tilt to Noiz’s mouth that spells trouble, and Aoba narrows his eyes at him. 

His suspicions are proven correct when Noiz delves his hand back down between Aoba’s legs in a movement that has Aoba pressing them together seconds too late. Noiz chuckles at how easily his fingers push into Aoba again, and Aoba's face burns hot with embarrassment. But there's none of the soreness that he expected, and Noiz seems to realise it. 

"Want to go another round?" he suggests.

"Are you kidding me?!" The feeling that Aoba's somehow landed himself in over his head intensifies. "You're insatiable."

"Yeah," Noiz agrees docilely right before he pounces on Aoba again, and Aoba, moaning and writhing beneath him thinks: maybe he's just as bad as Noiz, and that's all right.  
  
  


\---

 

They end up calling for delivery that evening. Sitting on Noiz’s couch, clean and wrapped up in his borrowed clothing, every inch of Aoba is exhausted in a blissful, satisfying way.

Noiz is stubbornly draped over his lap, the rest of him sprawled out over the plush sofa. He watches as Aoba absently eats one vanilla wafer after the other as he flicks through the channels on TV. Almost all of them are incomprehensible to Aoba.

“Are you going to eat all of them?” Noiz asks, amused. 

Aoba pauses mid-reach into the plastic carton for another wafer, guilt flashing over his face. It was almost full when he started, and now only a third of it remains. “I can’t help it, I’m hungry.” 

“Pizza should be here soon,” Noiz says, grabbing a wafer for himself and biting into it with a crunch.

The intercom buzzes at that exact moment, and Noiz taps at his Coil, unlocking the door to the building. Peeling himself reluctantly from Aoba, Noiz stands up and heads towards the door. 

“Put on a shirt!” Aoba yells after him. There’s a scoff from Noiz, but surprisingly, he reemerges from the bedroom with one on before padding to the door to lie in wait of the pizza. 

Picking up the abandoned remote, Aoba channel surfs until he finds himself watching a German dub of an animated movie that he once saw in his childhood, attention captured by the incongruity of the different language the characters on screen are speaking compared to his memories. 

In the background, he’s vaguely aware of the sound of Noiz speaking with someone at the door, but it isn’t until Noiz’s Allmates suddenly materialise and swarm from every room in a cacophony of high-pitched squeaks that Aoba startles. 

“ _Pi! Pi! Alert, alert!!_ ”

Aoba nearly falls off the couch. The TV switches over to an image of the Usagimodoki, screen pulsing with red light. From the foyer, Aoba can hear the sounds of a struggle. Without a second thought, he dashes towards the entrance, ignoring his body’s protests. Something is wrong and every instinct in his body is screaming at him. 

There, he finds Noiz in a scuffle with the pizza delivery man. Upon closer inspection, he doesn’t seem to be the actual delivery guy so much as a complete stranger whose face is obscured somehow. Try as Aoba might, his features shift disconcertingly in a crackle of pixels, and Aoba shakes his head from side to side. Now isn’t the time. Noiz is in trouble.

He jumps into the fray, darting around Noiz and the other man in an attempt to seize him from behind. Limbs flail; an elbow meets his gut, knocking the wind from him. Aoba kicks at the back of the man’s knee in retaliation. He staggers and drops down to the floor, and for a moment Aoba is elated. 

Then the air crackles and Noiz collapses in a heap, eyes shut and limbs twitching. 

“Noiz!” he shouts, and Noiz’s eyelids flicker. Aoba stumbles around the intruder, trying to get to Noiz who is struggling to get back on his feet. His lip is split, and his jaw is beginning to bruise. 

“Get out of here,” Noiz rasps. 

Aoba opens his mouth to protest, except what comes out next is a scream. His entire body locks up, and a blow to the back of his head tips him over onto the floor. Every angle of his body meets the ground painfully, his senses screaming. 

He wants to tell Noiz to leave, to not do anything stupid like trying to kill the pizza delivery guy and his accomplice who hit Aoba from behind, but his mouth won’t cooperate. 

The last thing he sees before he blacks out is Noiz’s face, features twisted as he reaches his hand out to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahaha.......... happy long weekend!!
> 
> my area was hit with a bad storm and i had a power outage so i ended up writing an excessive amount, hope you guys enjoyed it!


	6. Turbulence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay! i meant to finish this chapter sooner, but i got hit by a ton of real life stuff. hope everyone had a good halloween!

"...wake up."

Aoba groans, curling in tighter on himself. His entire body is aching in a way that screams of overuse, that Aoba associates with too wild a time out the previous night. 

"Hey, wake up already."

"...five more minutes," he grumbles, trying to shove whoever the hell is disturbing his rest away only to find he can't move his arms. That's enough to prompt his quick return to consciousness.

Opening his eyes, Aoba sees Noiz looking down at him, features drawn tight in worry. A brief flash of deja vu overcomes Aoba, and he half expects to see Ren somewhere nearby. But instead of lavish bed of his hotel room in Okinawa, he's lying on cold concrete with his hands bound together. They're in a bare room. It would’ve been unremarkable if not for the fact that apart from the metal framed cot shoved up against the wall and a small table adjacent to it, there is no other furniture present. 

His head throbs in time with his heartbeat, and he _hurts_ all over. Noiz's cheek is beginning to bruise vividly. 

"Holy shit," was the first thing out of Aoba's mouth when he gains his bearings. His thoughts are coming back to him in fragments. "Did we get kidnapped?"

Relief breaks over Noiz's face, and he backs up to give Aoba room to push himself up awkwardly. 

"Looks like it," he says. 

Aoba groans. This isn't exactly how he imagined his trip would turn out, but then again, does anyone typically expect to be kidnapped from their home? Stomach lurching, apprehension roils in his gut. Aoba does his best to marshal his expressions, trying not to let any of the worry show on his face as his imagination runs wild. Both of them are in one piece, thankfully, though the bruise on Noiz's face looks painful.

"Are you okay?" Aoba asks, just to be on the safe side. 

"..." Noiz frowns, pursing his lips together. Blinking at him, Aoba cocks his head at him. He immediately regrets it as another dull throb runs through him.

"Noiz?"

"Don't worry about me," he says, sitting close enough to Aoba to push his face inappropriately close and resting his chin on Aoba's shoulder. He says in a mumble, "You shouldn't be here."

"What are you talking about? Neither of us should be here."

"They came to my place," Noiz points out.

" _Or_ they could've followed me there," shifting, Aoba nudges Noiz into looking at him. "It was just bad luck."

Dissatisfaction is written in the curve of Noiz's mouth and to how he frowns

"What do you think they're after? Money?" Changing the subject, he shifts closer to Noiz, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his elbows on them, pressing his forehead to his wrists. His headache isn't going away. How long have they been here? The lack of windows makes it difficult to gauge, but the rumbling in his stomach tells him it's been at least an hour or two since they were supposed to eat.

"...it wasn’t just bad luck. You were out for a while.” 

“A while? How long is a while?” Apprehension builds in Aoba’s gut, and he knows in that instant he missed out on something major. 

Noiz shrugs. “The night. Long enough for them to pull me out of here and tell me what they want.”

And then he falls silent until Aoba prompts him. 

“Well? What do they want?”

“Usagimodoki.” 

“Usa-- your company?”

“They can’t have it. It’s mine,” Noiz declares flatly.

“I know that,” Aoba says, his head spinning. “But that’s-- that’s kind of bad news.” 

“For you. It’d be better if I was here alone,” Noiz says.

The door creaks open and Aoba falls silent, every fiber of him tense and rigid. It’s the same person who had forced his way into Noiz's apartment under the guise of a pizza delivery that enters, Aoba realises. Or so he assumes-- with that holographic mask concealing his features, all Aoba has to go by is his figure. He's carrying a tray of food, and doesn't turn his back to them as he sets it on the table.

Noiz watches him with narrowed eyes, and Aoba can guess what he's thinking-- he's trying to judge the distance between them and the man and if he can force his way through the door after somehow disarming him. Nudging him, Aoba hisses at him in warning. "Don't, don't do it."

"...he's too close to the door anyway," Noiz mutters in return. Then he straightens, gaining a particularly arrogant tilt to his head that Aoba has seen before and has a special knack for annoying him. There's a sinking feeling in his gut-- whatever Noiz is about to do, Aoba wants to tell him not to do it either. Before he can, Noiz is speaking in a low, controlled burst of sharp, grating syllables. 

It takes a moment for Aoba to realise that he doesn't understand the words; Noiz is speaking in German. To make matters worse, whatever he says causes the man with the tray to pause and turn his head towards them. Not even Aoba trodding on Noiz's toe stops him from continuing the conversation. 

He can practically feel the already strained air in the room becoming worse. Then it boils over, the food tray landing with a sudden crash as something Noiz says ticks the man off and he leaps for Noiz. 

Aoba immediately recoils out of reflex, wide-eyed and stunned as the conversation escalates into shouting; he hears screaming and realises it's coming from himself, because there is a sickening crunch as Noiz is punched across the face over and over. 

Throwing himself forward, Aoba tries to intervene only to be shoved to the side. Noiz crumples to his side eventually. But, Aoba realises numbly, he's _laughing_ , forcing the words out from between bloody lips even as he's kicked in the sides. They make eye contact, and he jerks his head almost minutely to the abandoned door left ajar. 

Anger wells up in Aoba, and he's suddenly furious with Noiz. He gets it-- he's telling him to leave him here, to run and save himself. But how could he? Besides, he doesn't have his Coil, he doesn't know where he is, and he's in the middle of a totally different country where nobody even speaks the same language as him. Staying here with Noiz and making sure they both get out of this in one piece is preferable. 

There has to be something he can do. 

So he picks himself up, stopping at the door and shouting. "Hey! Hey, are you just gonna leave this open?" 

He's pretty sure that every word he says is incomprehensible, but the ringing, strident quality of his voice attracts the man's attention. Realising his mistake, he lays off on Noiz and hurries to the door, shoving Aoba aside. 

For a moment, Aoba is left dazed and confused. Neither Noiz or him move, and it isn't until the ringing in his ears subsides that he hears Noiz's labored breathing.

"Noiz, you crazy bastard, don't you _ever_ do that again!" Scrambling forward towards Noiz, Aoba bites his lip in frustration and worry. He wants to touch him and check him over to make sure he's all right, but with his hands tied together, he can't do anything more than watch.

Noiz ignores him, spitting out harsh words that Aoba can't begin to understand at the man's retreating back until the door slams shut with a deafening finality.

The pallor of Noiz's face becoming more and more apparent as the venom fades from his face and Aoba is glad that despite how much it must cost him to do it, he manages to get to his feet on his own. There isn't much he can do to help him other than let him lean against him as he walks.

There's a thump as Noiz collapses on the bed, and Aoba winces at the sight of him. Blood is running down his chin, his lip split. He doesn't understand what the hell Noiz was thinking, provoking that guy the way he did. Taking in deep breaths, Aoba fights to calm down and finds that he can't. 

"Why didn't you run for it?" Noiz interrupts his thoughts. 

Sitting down beside him, Aoba wipes away what he can of Noiz's blood with his bound hands and then wipes them clean on the sheets, leaving a red smear behind. Noiz only narrows his eyes at him throughout it, glowering at him. Aoba ignores it until the pounding in his ears subsides. 

"I’m not gonna leave you behind, you idiot." 

"Not an idiot," Noiz mutters. "I can take care of myself." 

"This is taking care of yourself?" Raising an eyebrow, Aoba looks pointedly at the mess that is Noiz. And then he frowns at him. "Nothing feels broken, right?" 

Neither an affirmative or negative leaves Noiz's pursed lips, and Aoba rolls his eyes at him. Either Noiz is a great actor or he's just bruised-- Aoba can't decide or tell. Either way, this isn't an ideal situation. 

"Anyway, your Allmates were making a racket back in your apartment, so I'm pretty sure someone's figured out you're missing. We just have to wait for... whatever."

"Someone to find us," Noiz supplies helpfully. 

"Yeah. I haven't exactly been kidnapped a ton before." 

Noiz snorts at that, and Aoba manages to laugh a little. Drawing his knees back up to his chest again, he rests his back gingerly against the concrete wall. To say that this wasn't what he'd been expecting when their evening to turn into is an understatement. With a gentle huff, he turns to look at Noiz only to find him already watching him. 

Noiz's eyes flick to the side first, and he clicks his tongue piercing against his teeth. "...sorry." 

"Huh?" Blinking, Aoba frowns at Noiz. "For what?"

"This. I thought spending the night with you sounded good, but I didn't want you to get involved in this kind of thing." The brash confidence that Noiz tends to wear is nowhere to be seen, leaving behind only this uncertain, eyebrows-drawn-together and downcast version of him behind. 

Shuffling closer to Noiz until their shoulders touch, Aoba nudges him into meeting his eyes. "Hey, it's not like you knew this would happen. It isn't your fault." 

"Wouldn't have happened to you if you weren't with me," Noiz says stubbornly. 

"I'd rather be kidnapped with you then let you be kidnapped alone, believe it or not," Aoba fires back. 

"Because you like me," Noiz says, a question in the form of a statement. Opening his mouth to confirm it, Noiz cuts him off. "I thought at first... when you said it, it sounded too good to be true." 

"You're a hard sell," Aoba says reproachfully. "Why would I say it if I didn't mean it?" 

Noiz shrugs. "Maybe you wanted something from me."

The memory of the very first night they spent together comes rushing back to Aoba with clarity. It's obvious to him now that Noiz has been used before in the past; had people get close to him because of who he is. Hell, the same thing's happened to Aoba before. He just never realised how much it took to break down Noiz's walls. 

"But after a while, I started to believe you. I _do_ believe you," corrects Noiz and then his voice drops to something nearly inaudible. "I don't want to hurt you. I don’t want anything to happen to you." 

"You're the one who's hurt here, not me. And I trust you, I don't think you'd hurt me on purpose." Aoba finds that he means it, every single one of his words. 

Noiz doesn't say anything immediately in reply, the blood continuing to drip from his lip to drop onto his shirt. It disappears into the black fabric. "It doesn't hurt. Any of this."

His words are bitten out, short and curt and rushed like a confession. "I don't feel pain."

"You don't-- what?" 

"I don't feel pain," Noiz repeats, face devoid of any emotion. "Getting punched or being stabbed or breaking a bone or whatever-- it doesn't feel like anything to me." 

"Then..." Trying to wrap his head around the concept, Aoba chews on his lower lip. "It doesn't feel like anything when you're hurt?" 

"Yeah," Noiz says. "When I was younger, I would hurt myself without realising it. Sometimes I would hurt other people too, and I couldn't understand it. I'm better at not doing that now, but that's why it doesn't matter. That's why you should've left me behind and gone. Whatever happens to me, it's fine."

"It isn't! It isn't okay, Noiz." Aoba's chest tightens, a painful pressure growing around his heart as Noiz speaks dispassionately about himself. When he shoots Aoba a gauging, uncertain glance, Aoba is seized with the inexplicable urge to cry. "Those people you hurt, didn't they understand? That it was an accident."

"Everyone else thought I was different." The bitterness in his words is palpable. "Wrong." 

Unable to find the right words to say, Aoba stares at Noiz in silence. Try as Noiz might to keep his expression devoid of any emotion, bitterness leaks into his tone and defiance into his eyes as he gazes back at Aoba. The blood has finally dried on his face, smeared across to the edge of the bruise there. Along with the slump of his shoulders screaming of weariness, everything about Noiz says _I'm tired_ and _I'm lonely, I've always been so alone._ Aoba wants to wrap his arms around Noiz and engulf him in his arms. He wants to tell him that he isn't alone anymore. That there's nothing wrong with being different.

Hugging Noiz might be out of the question, but this is what he says: “Remember back when we first met on the plane?"

Noiz frowns, puzzled. And then he nods. 

Aoba continues. "You told me that no one would care if you died in a plane crash, and I said that I would even though I didn't know you at all then." 

Again, there's affirmation from Noiz. The plain white cot creaks under their combined weight as Aoba turns towards Noiz. 

"I know you now," he says firmly. "And I haven't changed my mind. If anything ever happened to you, I'd be sad. I'd hate it. So don't say stuff like that anymore-- that it doesn't matter what happens to you. Even if you don't feel it when you get hurt, I do." 

“That’s not how it works,” interrupts Noiz. Then he casts his gaze off to the side, before meeting Aoba’s eyes again. 

“You know what I mean,” Aoba insists. 

“Not really,” Noiz is frowning. “Why would it bother you when it’s happening to me?”

“The same reason why you don’t want me getting caught up in this, you idiot,” he snaps. His voice softens after, and Aoba adds, “Because I care about you.” 

Falling silent, Noiz shuts his eyes briefly. “Come closer.” 

“Huh?” Blinking, Aoba pauses and then shuffles closer to Noiz uncertainly. “Why?”

In place of an answer, Noiz ducks his head in and presses a soft kiss to Aoba’s lips. It lasts for barely seconds before Noiz pulls back, resting his forehead against Aoba’s. He pins his gaze on Aoba, and Aoba’s caught in his stare.

“Getting too involved with people makes you care about them,” Noiz says. “So you shouldn’t. That’s what I always thought.” 

Aoba opens his mouth to protest, and Noiz shushes him. “You can get hurt too that way-- that’s what you mean.”

“Right,” Aoba says. “But you can’t just shut yourself off from everyone because you’re scared.” 

“That didn’t stop you,” breathes out Noiz, tucking his chin on Aoba’s shoulder. 

“Because I could tell you’re a good guy, just weird. Anyway, aren’t you glad it worked out?”

“I am, ‘cause now I get you all to myself,” Noiz proclaims smugly. 

“Brat--!!”

They talk for what feels like hours after that, about everything and nothing. Aoba tells Noiz about his rise to fame; how he went from a dead end part-time job in Midorijima to going back to school for music after getting scouted at the Black Needle during one of Mizuki's brief spell of fancy towards live entertainment. Of course he isn't complaining; it's what jump started his career and helped him get to where he is today. He tells him of something even further back in his past, of when he used to run wild in the back alleys of Midorijima that has Noiz raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

"I'm supposed to believe that you were a delinquent?" he asks, smirking. 

"I'm telling you I was! I'm not proud of it, but it's true," Aoba insists.

"Hmm... kinda hard to believe. Wish I could've seen it." 

Aoba pouts, and Noiz chuckles, moving in to kiss Aoba again despite his protests. "But I don't mind. I like you the way you are."

There’s a swooping sensation in Aoba’s chest, and he blinks at Noiz before averting his gaze, impossibly flustered. “Seriously? You wanna flirt _now_?”

A quiet chuckle rings out by his ear, and Aoba sneaks a peek back at Noiz. The laughter smooths out the lines on Noiz’s face, the disagreeableness that often lingers on his face fading. For an instance, he looks his age. Young. Vulnerable.

With a sudden resolution, Aoba says, “We’re gonna get out of here. Everything’s going to be fine-- nobody’s gonna force you or me to do anything we don’t want to.” 

“You got an idea?” Noiz asks skeptically, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yeah,” Aoba says, wriggling forward on the cot. “As a matter of fact, I do.”  
  
  


\---

 

Later that night, the two of them execute the plan they formulated earlier in the day. As far as plans go, it isn't the best one he's ever come up with, Aoba thinks. It’s full of holes and hinges on hopes, but it's better than nothing. Better than sitting around and waiting for someone to rescue them-- someone in Noiz's affluent apartment building was bound to have noticed the Usagimodoki's alarm had it not gone directly to an alarm company-- while who-knows-what happens to both of them at the hands of the kidnappers.

"If you knew how to get out of the zip ties, why didn't you say anything earlier?" questions Noiz as they edge along the side of the corridor warily. Behind them, the busted open door swings uselessly on its hinges. 

Rubbing at his chafed wrists, Aoba shushes Noiz, peering around the corner. No one in sight. "I forgot, all right?"

"You forgot," says Noiz flatly. 

"Shut up already, or we're gonna get caught! Honestly, it's like you don't realise we're in the middle of a jailbreak here." Rolling his eyes at Noiz, Aoba pauses in front of another door. Nobody’s stopped them so far; it’s the middle of the night, but the overall lack of surveillance on them is strange enough that Aoba can’t help feeling like they’re walking straight into a trap. Unless they thought tying up their hands was a good enough deterrent.

"I'll open it," Noiz says, reading Aoba's mind. 

"No, I've got it. You're already all banged up as it is, it makes more sense for me to go first." 

Noiz glowers at Aoba, but relents. It's unexpected. Aoba expected more of a fight, and for Noiz to use the fact that he can’t feel pain against him. When Aoba shoots him a searching glance, Noiz reaches out, grabbing his hand. "Be careful."

Nodding, Aoba sneaks forward and pushes the door open.

It swings outward silently on its hinges. Trying to peek through the gap as inconspicuously as someone with his colour hair can, Aoba peers around the room beyond the door. 

Eyes adjusting to the gloom, Aoba slowly makes out vague shapes littering the floor here and there. A faint light strives to filter through the grimy, narrow windows that run high up on the walls. It must be a warehouse of some sort that they’re in-- Aoba thinks he can see machinery draped in cobwebs and old drum barrels, rusty with age. There’s no sign of anyone else. 

“The exit is over there,” Noiz points out. “Probably locked.”

“Maybe we can pick it with something?” The door to the room they were locked in had been flimsy, but this one looks considerably more solid.

“Like what?” 

Neither him nor Noiz have anything useful on him; their Coils nor Allmates. Ren is hopefully safe back at Noiz’s place, and Noiz's bunny cubes… well, they'd been raising the alarm. Aoba pats at the pockets of his borrowed pants absently-- nothing in them. 

“We could try breaking it down again,” Aoba suggests. “Come on, let’s go take a closer look.”

As they proceed briskly towards the door, muffled shouting comes from the hallway they left behind them. Aoba freezes, automatically looking over his shoulder as panic overtakes him. The door flies open a second later, flashlights cutting through the darkness. 

Noiz grabs him by the hand, pulling Aoba along as they break into a full on run. They reach the door, the exit sign above it emanating an eerie red glow. Yanking on the handle and jiggling it, Aoba grits his teeth in frustration. “Shit-- it’s locked, I can’t open it!” 

“Move over,” Noiz says, jostling Aoba to the side. 

“No!” Aoba yelps in alarm. “Noiz, you’re already hurt, let me do it--” 

“We don’t have time for this,” Noiz snarls back pointedly, and Aoba twists around. They aren’t exactly being quiet; the footsteps grows closer. Along with another sound, a distinct _thump-thump-thump_ of rotors spinning. Beneath that, sirens shriek. 

The door rattles as Noiz throws his shoulder against it, but holds. Sweat beads down his temple, and Aoba swears. 

Then, someone from the other side of the door calls out his name. “Ah, Aoba? Is that you?”

It takes Aoba a moment to place a name to go with the voice. “Trip?!” 

“That's right. Back up, the door’s coming down.” 

Aoba barely has time to haul Noiz away from the door before it bursts open. Light shines in his eyes, and he blinks. It’s a circus of activity, police cruisers parked haphazardly before the entrance, and the helicopter Aoba heard earlier resting on a patch of grass further out.

Both him and Noiz are wrapped up in a chaotic blur of action, officers in vests ushering them out of the way. Trip wraps his arm around his shoulders and easing him out of the warehouse. Dry grass crunches beneath his feet as he stumbles forth numbly, and then they hit concrete. He’s still holding Noiz’s hand, clenching it tightly. When he glances over his shoulder, Noiz looks just as shell-shocked as he does-- to anyone who knows him well, that is. His eyes have widened almost faintly, and as they meet Aoba, Noiz squeezes his hand. 

“You look like shit,” Aoba says dumbly, near hysterical laughter welling up in him. 

“You too,” Noiz shoots back. 

“All right, all right. Aoba, let’s get you in the chopper. Your friend too,” interrupts Trip. The ground vanishes from beneath Aoba’s feet, Trip scooping him up as easily as he would a kitten. Aoba’s stomach lurches, and he goes pale. Closing his eyes, he breathes in deeply.

“Trip, I can walk on my own--” he complains. "Where's Virus?"

"Sorry, Aoba. It's this or a stretcher," Trip answers cheerfully. Aoba groans. "Virus is taking care of the problem." 

“Let him carry you,” Noiz says. A paramedic moves forward to help him onto the helicopter.  


The helicopter takes off in a gust of wind after all its occupants are strapped in. Aoba rests his head against the window, peering down below at the beehive of activity, dazed.

“We’re okay,” Aoba says numbly, his vision swimming. 

“Yeah,” Noiz says, finding Aoba’s hand again and rubbing his fingers rubbing over Aoba’s knuckles before he laces their hands together again. “We’re okay.”


	7. Cruise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who has left me kudos and comments so far! i really appreciate all of it, and i love knowing that other people are enjoying this fic as well. that being said, we're heading into the last few chapters (for real this time). enjoy!

Following a dizzying helicopter ride to a hospital in Munich that Aoba can’t begin to pronounce the name of, he and Noiz are ordered to remain for observation for a few days. Aoba suffered from a concussion; Noiz a broken nose, and fractured rib, and a myriad of cuts and bruises and scrapes. But all things considered, both of them got off relatively light. Virus and Trip hover. They fill Aoba in on the details behind the kidnapping, and then telling Aoba his schedule’s been rearranged to make up for the concerts he missed after he’s well enough to perform again. 

Even Koujaku hears about it through the grapevine-- well, more accurately, there probably isn’t a single person back in Japan who _doesn’t_ know what happened by now. Virus had pushed a copy of the Weekly Post at Aoba while he was still stuck in bed, the blaring headline screaming out at him _MUSICIAN KIDNAPPED ABROAD_. Anyway, almost immediately following that particular tabloid, he had to turn his Coil off after threatening never to speak to Koujaku again if he flew here, after reassuring Clear that he’s _fine_ , it’s nothing serious. And Sei, after giving him his best wishes, had handed the call over to Tae, who proceeded to chew Aoba out and lecture him on safety while traveling in a foreign country. 

“Yeah, Granny, I get it. I’ll come right home when I can, okay?”

His door opens, Aoba glancing up from the Coil feed. Noiz slides inside, shutting the door behind him. 

“I’ve gotta go-- I’ll talk to you later,” Aoba says hastily. On the other end of the line, Tae sighs, and nods. 

“Come over when you’re back in Midorijima,” she says. “I’ll make nikujaga.” 

Grinning at her, Aoba ends the call. Noiz approaches the bed, his eyes roving over the entirety of the room. Despite the relative brevity of his stay, it’s flooded with gifts from well-wishers. The security detail that Virus assigned him went over everything before any of it makes its way to him. There are mostly flowers and cards. Picking up a stuffed dog with an uncanny resemblance to Ren, Noiz raises an eyebrow at it. 

Aoba clears his throat, suddenly self-conscious. “Hey.” 

“Yo.”

“Your nose looks better.” Giving the aforementioned appendage a good study, Aoba nods his approval.

“Yeah,” Noiz says. “The doctors say it’ll heal on its own, as long as I’m careful.”

“Well, better listen to what they say, unless you want that nice nose of yours healing crooked.” 

“Mm.” Sitting down beside him, Noiz sets the stuffed dog in Aoba’s lap. He leans over and kisses him, Aoba returning it indulgently. Then not so indulgently when Noiz tries to ease Aoba back down on the hospital bed. Shoving the stuffed dog in Noiz’s face, Aoba half laughs, half splutters. 

“Okay, stop right there, Mister! Don’t get carried away here.” 

Expression petulant, Noiz pushes the dog away, but it remains caught between them as he wraps his arms around Aoba. He pushes his face into Aoba’s neck, clinging to him. Aoba’s arms come up automatically, resting on Noiz’s shoulders. 

“Noiz?”

“I missed you,” he mumbles against Aoba’s throat. 

“You were literally in the room next door.” Aoba is trying not to grin. “I visited you.”

“That’s not good enough.” There’s the unmistakable sensation of Noiz licking at his neck, the warm huff of his breath tickling Aoba. His arms tighten around Aoba as Aoba tries to squirm free. “I haven’t been able to touch you. How can I know you’re all right for sure unless I do that?” 

Not that Noiz hasn’t made every attempt to get Aoba to fool around with him behind the locked door on the hospital bed. However, with the heightened security Virus and Trip had insisted upon, Aoba didn’t want to risk getting caught. Besides, he was reluctant to do anything that could aggravate his own or Noiz’s injuries. Particularly for Noiz, who can’t feel pain and therefore doesn’t know when to stop. The last thing he wants is to have to explain to a doctor why Noiz’s injuries have been aggravated. Of course, Noiz points out that he’d be the one doing the explaining due to the language gap, but Aoba stays firm on the matter. 

Tightening his grip around Noiz, Aoba rests his chin on his shoulder, nuzzling his hair. This kind of behaviour on Noiz’s part never fails to rouse the urge to coddle him from Aoba, and it’s no different today. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Still wanna touch you,” Noiz grouses.

“Well, I'm going to be in Germany for a while longer… and I told Virus that I'd just stay with you instead of getting a hotel room, “ Aoba says tentatively, hastily tacking on some words to that. “If you're okay with it, if you aren't, I can still book a room somewhere.”

“No,” Noiz interrupts. “Stay with me.” 

“I have work to do though, and I'm pretty sure you do too, so we're _not_ fooling around the whole time,” Aoba reminds Noiz, whose only reply is to push his face harder against him, as though trying to meld them together. There's a vibration at his throat, and he realises Noiz is laughing. Aoba rolls his eyes. Typical, incorrigible Noiz. He’s probably already trying to concoct a scheme to distract Aoba with.

“We'll see,” is all he says, before he finally dislodges himself from Aoba. 

“What do you mean, we'll see? I'm serious--”

“Shouldn't you pack up?” Noiz interrupts. “Theo is coming by to pick me up soon.”

“Ah… yeah. I think I’ll have to leave most of the flowers, they’re kind of hard to carry. Let me grab the cards, and the other things.” 

“You don’t need them,” Noiz says sulkily. “I’ll buy you gifts. I can get you whatever you want.”

“Right, right. Come on, stop being jealous and help me carry everything down to the lobby.”

“I’m not jealous,” Noiz insists.

Noiz is lying, Aoba can tell, but he doesn’t argue with him any further on it, breaking out into another peal of laughter instead. Eventually, he manages to cajole and coax Noiz into helping him pack. In almost no time at all, they’re on their way back to Noiz’s apartment, riding in the back of the car that Theo arranged for them. The seats are leather, buttery and smooth. 

“You’re sure you want to go back there?” Theo questions Noiz anxiously, drumming his fingers on his thigh.

Noiz shrugs, careless and casual. “Why not? They already caught the guys who did it. Building security’s up too.”

“But doesn’t it make you nervous, after what happened? Aoba-san?” Theo directs his questions to Aoba, features twisted in worry.

“I get what you mean, but like Noiz said, it’s already taken care of. Besides…” Aoba shoots Noiz a glance, grinning. “I’ve gotta keep an eye on Noiz and stick around to protect him just in case.”

“I don’t need protecting,” Noiz glowers. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” 

Theo’s laughter rings out in the spacious interior of the limo, delighted and appeased. “I don’t know, Nii-san, I think Aoba-san is right. You do get caught up in your work sometimes. I’ll sleep better knowing that he’s keeping an eye on you.” 

“See, Noiz? Even your brother agrees!” Not passing up on the opportunity to poke fun at Noiz, Aoba continues to grin. Leaning over Noiz, Aoba lowers his voice to a loud whisper. “Don’t worry, Theo. I’ll take good care of him.” 

The rest of the drive passes quickly and in good cheer, the atmosphere relaxed as Aoba and Theo continue to gang up on Noiz. For all of his grumbling and sour faces, he tolerates the teasing with grace. They break out a bottle of champagne from the mini fridge, and it goes down light and fizzy in Aoba’s throat. 

As the car pulls to a slow stop in front of Noiz’s building, Noiz exits first. He offers Aoba a hand on the way out, and when Aoba accepts it, Noiz ducks down, the car door shielding them briefly from view. He squeezes Aoba’s thigh with his free hand, leaning in close to murmur roughly against Aoba’s ear. “Don’t think I’m going to let you get away with that so easily.”

And then he pulls Aoba up, all courtesy and manners. Slanting Noiz a look, Aoba holds onto his hand a moment stricter than necessary.

“I was counting on it,” he says, and quickly hurries around to the door, where the driver has already gathered the majority of his bags. 

Noiz is left gaping at him, until Theo catches his attention and sweeps him up into a hug. He walks Noiz to the door, where Aoba makes further small talk with him, thanking him for arranging their ride back to Noiz’s apartment. It’s a short goodbye-- they’ll see each other again in the following days. 

But that’s a thought which flees Aoba’s mind almost immediately when Noiz jumps him in the elevator, devouring his mouth in a hungry kiss that sends him reeling. They make it down the hallway somehow despite Noiz’s best attempts to kiss Aoba breathless, to the apartment door where Aoba’s back slams up against it, his belt already half off. He plucks at Noiz’s clothing, slides his hands beneath them to touch him as the door falls away behind him, and they stumble past the threshold, tangled up in each other’s arms.  
  
  


\---

 

Cohabiting with another person always comes with its own set of complications; differences in schedules, bad habits that grind on each others’ nerves, kinks to work out and compromise on. Furthermore, Aoba hasn’t been in a serious relationship in years, never mind one that involves living with another person. It isn’t even long-term-- this. Ren tells him he’s overthinking it.

But it works out. 

They end up spending the remainder of the first day after their return from the hospital in bed (and on various other surfaces), indulging in each other. Aoba gets embarrassed just thinking back on it. The next few days fly back peacefully and easily. Noiz seems to be working from home in the interim, and when Aoba returns following his events, they go for a later dinner, or call in. It’s almost disgustingly domestic. 

“Aoba? Earth to Aoba!” 

His thoughts are interrupted, and his attention snaps back to his Coil. Sunlight spills through the wide windows of Noiz’s apartment, filtered through the white curtains. It’s early morning, and Aoba is curled up on the couch, in the middle of a Skype session with Koujaku. 

“Sorry, I zoned out for a second. What did you say?” Aoba strokes his hand over Ren, rubbing his ears fondly.

“I said, when are you going to be back? We’re starting to miss your face around here,” Koujaku says. “And it looks like your hair could use a trim too.” 

“Ah… in a few days? I have one more show to run through, and I still have to book my tickets.” Aoba pauses. “And I think Noiz is planning to fly back at the same time as me, so we have to work out our schedules.”

Koujaku makes a noise that’s neither affirmative or negative. “That’s the guy you met. The one you’re staying with now.”

 

“Yeah, and we ended up being coworkers, of all things. I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I saw him at Silent Oath.” And look at them now.

“Bring him to the Black Needle again when you’re back,” Koujaku says. “I want to meet him.” 

“Sure, can do,” Aoba agrees amiably, yawning. 

A comfortable silence stretches out, shared between them. Koujaku clears his throat. “Aoba…”

“Hm?”

“...I’m glad you’re all right. You gave us all a scare, when we heard what happened.” 

A wave of guilt crashes of Aoba, and he avoids Koujaku’s gaze briefly. “I know, I’m sorry. 

“No,” Koujaku sighs. “No, it isn’t your fault. But I’ll feel better when I see you in person again.”

There’s a quiet rush of air, the shuffle of feet over hardwood floor. Aoba looks past the Coil screen, and sees Noiz. He’s tousle-haired, a line imprinted on his face from the sheets. It’s unbearably cute, and Aoba has to smile. Tearing his attention away from Noiz briefly, he turns back to Koujaku. 

“Yeah, you too. Hey, I’ll text you and let you know when I’ll head back, okay?”

Something in Koujaku’s gaze is too knowing, but it’s gone in a flash. He smiles at Aoba, eyes crinkled at the corners. “Don’t forget, or I’ll come over there and drag you back. See you later, Aoba.”

The feed blinks off as Noiz rests his hands on Aoba’s knees, leaning over to kiss him. 

“Hi,” Aoba tells him after, head tilted up at him. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Alarm was about to go off.” Flopping down on the couch, Noiz sprawls on his back, resting his head in Aoba’s lap. “I like waking up to the sound of your voice better.”

Aoba flushes. “Were you always this embarrassing?”

“It’s the truth,” Noiz says, eyes half shut. 

Running his fingers through Noiz’s hair, Aoba makes a face down at him. “I’m a singer, it’s what I do. Actually… have you ever heard me sing before?”

“Yeah, I have.”

“What? When?” Surprised, Aoba’s hands slow, and then stop. Noiz grumbles, and Aoba would laugh if he weren’t trying to tease an answer out of him. But his hands resume toying with Noiz’s hair, combing down the unruly layers of it. 

“Got all the mp3s,” Noiz says. 

“By “got”, do you mean you bought them, or downloaded them off the internet?” Not that Aoba hasn’t done his fair share of music pirating back when he was younger. When you’re sixteen and broke, it’s just what you did. 

“...bought them after. Anyway, you sound good just talking too.” 

“You’re terrible,” Aoba laughs. “Come on, you should get up. Don’t you have things to do today?” 

Noiz turns onto his side, wrapping his arms around Aoba’s waist and clinging to him. “Sing to me.”

“I will,” Aoba says. “But first, you have to get up. You said last night you’d finally show me around Usagimodoki.” 

“Like this,” Noiz insists, voice muffled. He’s pressed up against Aoba’s hip, mouthing at the band of his underwear. 

“No- _i_ -z...” Prying Noiz off of him, Aoba struggles to control his expression, schooling it into a frown and failing. Scooting to the other end of the couch, Aoba scrambles to his feet. With an annoyed sigh, Noiz follows after him. His scowl melts into something softer when Aoba vanishes into the spare room to get changed, the first strains of his voice drifting out from the room in a soaring song.  
  
  


\---

 

“Maybe you should drop me off here,” Aoba says as they round the corner towards Usagimodoki.

“Here?” Noiz raises an eyebrow at him. “Why?” 

Pointing wordlessly at the crowd gathered in front of the building and in the nearby vicinity, almost all of whom seem to be sporting bulky camera equipment, Aoba sighs. “I was wondering when they’d catch up.” 

“So you really are famous,” Noiz says, good humor underlying his voice. 

“Jeez, what gave it away?” Digging around in his bag, Aoba locates his handy pair of sunglasses. He slips them on. “But hey, maybe they’re after you.” 

Noiz laughs, and then floors the gas. The engine roars to life, settling into a quiet purr as he pulls into a spot directly adjacent to the building. Outside, the hubbub grows. Unbuckling his seatbelt, Aoba climbs out of the car quickly, blinking in the clamor and camera flash from all directions. Noiz catches up to him immediately, placing a guiding hand on Aoba’s back. Between the two of them and the security personnel streaming out of Usagimodoki, they manage to shove their way past the over-eager paparazzi and into the building. 

Once they’re inside, Aoba releases his breath in one great whoosh. “Sorry.”

“For what?” Noiz asks, ignoring every greeting coming his way. 

“Well, you're probably about to get featured in some tabloid, that's what.” Removing his sunglasses, Aoba tucks them in his back pocket.

“I don't mind,” Noiz shrugs. “Wouldn't be the first time.”

“Hah? Seriously? What did you do last time?”

Noiz smirks at him, and doesn't answer. Instead, he leads Aoba down the halls, the warmth of his hand sinking through his t-shirt. “I'll show you around.”

The interior of the building is modern, minimalistic. There is a lot of green, and by now, Aoba’s assumed that it’s Noiz’s favourite colour. His car is green too, and equally sleek. Aoba figures it’s personal taste on Noiz’s part. Liking things up to date and top of the line, expensive taste for a guy who looks like a teenage punk. A teenage punk who runs an expansive, expensive company. Usagimodoki’s halls are buzzing with activity, employees everywhere. Aoba can't help looking left and right at everything and anything. 

But eventually, his gaze flicks back to Noiz.

“You know, for a brat with awful fashion sense, you drive a pretty nice car,” Aoba comments as they’re walking. “I think the only reason those guys weren’t banging on the window was because they were afraid they’d scratch it.”

“What’s wrong with my fashion sense?” Noiz asks. “Want one?”

Thrown, Aoba neglects to answer Noiz’s first question with an _everything_. He’s teasing him though; Noiz is dressed in business-casual today, and it suits him too. In a different way from his usual style, but it isn’t bad. Instead, he blurts out, “What?” 

“A car,” Noiz says nonchalantly, like he’s asking Aoba what he wants for dinner. “Blue?” 

“Whoah, whoah, slow down! I didn’t say I wanted one, I just said yours is nice.”

“I’ve always thought this, but aren’t you pretty stingy for someone with money?” 

“My grandma taught me to be sensible with it, and not throw it around on-- on gifts, just to impress someone!” 

“I’m not trying to impress you,” Noiz says. “I’m offering because I want to.”

“...you… seriously, you’re unbelievable.” Aoba sighs. Come to think of it, is Noiz this type? The sort of guy who spoils the person they like? “ Anyway, I don’t have anywhere to keep it-- Midorijima and cars don’t mix that well.” 

“...you could keep it here,” Noiz says, not looking at Aoba. 

Aoba goes silent. This is heading into new territory, into something he knows he had to think about sooner or later, but with everything going on, hasn’t had a chance to do yet. Of course the distance is going to be a problem-- Noiz’s home is here, and Aoba’s across an ocean. 

“Forget it.” Picking up his pace, Noiz heads to the elevator. Aoba’s forced to jog after him, and they step into the elevator. When Aoba looks after at him, Noiz’s jaw is set, and Aoba fumbles, struggles to find the right words. 

“No,” Aoba says as the elevator door closes. “It’s just… thanks for the offer, but it’s too expensive. I can’t accept a gift like that.” 

The elevator moves up the floors smoothly. No music is playing. Noiz is silent, and Aoba shifts his weight from one foot to another as he watches the floor numbers rise on the display.

Noiz suddenly starts forward, presses down on the elevator panel and tugging Aoba towards him. The next thing Aoba feels is the warm press of Noiz’s lips on his. He’s pushed up against the elevator wall, hands rising to clutch at Noiz’s sleeves. It takes him a second to relax and return the kiss, and by the time he breaks it, he’s panting. Noiz is sweeping up in his pace again, and Aoba is helpless to it, completely tangled up in him. 

“Doesn’t cost _that_ much. I told you, didn’t I? I’ll get you whatever you want.” Noiz says, leaning his forehead against Aoba’s. “...but fine. I’ll ask you again later, so think about it.”

“...you!!” Aoba does remember it. Back in the hospital room, Noiz had said something along those lines, didn’t he? But he’d dismissed it then. Definitely the spoiling type. “Okay, I’ll think about it, so-- so quit being inappropriate in public! What if someone comes in?”

“We’re here already,” Noiz announces. 

“Oh-- we are? Wait, where are we going anyway?” Aoba trails after Noiz, out of the elevator. “And that doesn’t mean you should just do that out of the blue!” 

“Why not?” Noiz is taking his time now, and Aoba easily falls into step beside him. This particularly floor is quieter than any of the others, the single employee who passes by them murmuring a greeting to Noiz before moving on.

“Because someone will see us!” 

“So?” Noiz glances at Aoba, a faint frown knitting his brow. “I don’t care who sees.”

“You know what I do,” Aoba says. “I have to-- I have to clear things first. With my PR liaison. About having a boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” There’s a faint beep as Noiz holds his Coil up to the door they’ve stopped in front of, before he holds it open for Aoba. His eyes are unreadable.

Aoba goes in first, but his eyes are trained on Noiz. “Well, yeah. That’s what you are, right? My boyfriend.” 

His face is hot, and he redirects his attention to the surroundings in front of him. A cream coloured shag carpet lies on the ground, large windows framing the room on two sides. There’s a single, L shaped black desk in the center of the room. A couch lies off to the side. However, what really catches Aoba’s attention is the shelving lining one wall-- it’s crammed full of game consoles and games, stretching as far as the eye can see, with a retro arcade game machine tucked in the corner. 

Embarrassment forgotten, Aoba ventures inwards. He runs his fingers along the surface of the desk, gives the folders a passing glance before standing in front of the shelves. “How did you _get_ all of these?” 

“It took a while,” Noiz says from behind him. His voice is softer, and fonder. Aoba tries not to guess at what it’s directed-- him or his collection. “Found them from all over-- the internet, antique stores, pawn shops.”

“You really like games, huh? Just like a kid,” Aoba teases. “Is that why you got into this business?”

“...sort of.” 

“Sort of?” This isn’t the first time Noiz has been recalcitrant with him. “Theo’s younger than you, and your family has a business, but you’re here.” 

Aoba is slowing putting the pieces together, trying to recall the details of the conversation that they had with Theo back at the cafe. It happened barely a week and a half ago, so the details of the conversation are fresh enough in his mind. Plus, with Noiz being so secretive, Aoba hangs onto every bit of information he gets. Beside him, Noiz is silent. 

“I see,” Aoba says finally. Noiz doesn’t get along with his parents, and knowing Noiz, he must have decided to leave. 

“They didn’t want me,” Noiz interrupts. “I left, and for a while, I didn’t know what to do. All I knew was that I couldn’t stay there anymore. Then…”

Noiz falls silent, and Aoba waits patiently for him to continue. 

“I wanted to show them that I could be better than they ever thought.” 

Aoba snorts unintentionally, covering his mouth. “Sorry, sorry-- I was just thinking- that’s just like you. Doing something because someone thought you couldn’t.” He turns towards Noiz, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it. Smiling gently at him, Aoba says, “You’re not unwanted, Noiz. I can tell Theo cares a lot about you, and so do I.” 

The seconds putter by in silence. A sudden fit of shyness seems to have overtaken Noiz for a moment, rendering him incapable of meeting Aoba’s gaze. It doesn’t last long before he’s curling an arm around Aoba and pulling him into his grasp, smirking as usual. “Because I’m your lover.” 

Sputtering, Aoba goes red, pushing at Noiz’s chest. He doesn’t look at him, mouth mulish. “...even before then. But you already knew that.”

“Mm.” Noiz presses his nose against Aoba’s hair, kissing the side of his head. 

Desperate to change the subject, Aoba hastily casts his gaze towards the windows. The view is stunning, the day clear and sunny. “Anyway, this is your office, right? Shouldn’t you technically save this place for last? Like, at the end of the tour.” 

“Am I?” Noiz is trying to steer both of them back towards the desk in a strange side shuffle without letting go of Aoba. 

“Noiz? Noiz, what are you doing?” Stumbling along with him, Aoba starts to laugh. “Hey, where are we going?” 

His back hits the edge of the desk; Aoba barely notices it, because the next instance, Noiz is nipping at his neck, lavishing wet sucks along the slender column of it. Melting under his ministrations, Aoba grips at the front of his shirt. The expensive fabric is smooth beneath his fingers, but Aoba is completely focused on Noiz. He can’t be anything but, with Noiz working his way up to his ear and murmuring into it. 

“We’re not going anywhere,” Noiz purrs. “Because I want to see you bent over my desk instead.” 

“Hah?” 

But before Aoba can protest, Noiz pounces on him with another long, deep kiss that leaves no room for argument. All thought of anything else flees from Aoba's mind, and his world narrows down until there is only him, and Noiz.  
  
  


\---

 

“Kou _ja_ ku!” Aoba sings out as he sails into his salon. The smell of shampoo, the _snip snip_ of hair being cut and general hustle and bustle of the salon-- _Koujaku’s_ salon-- accompanies his greeting. “Guess who’s here?”

It’s airy and bright, and two of the four chairs are occupied. A blow dryer starts up with a hum. From the opposite corner of the room, Koujaku is fluffing up his client’s hair, running wax through the strands to keep it in shape. 

He pauses and looks up with a broad smile. “Aoba! You’re back!”

Waving at him from the reception area, Aoba grins back. “Yeah, it’s me. And I’ve got gifts.”

“Ah, great,” Koujaku says. “I’ll be with you in a bit, take a seat.” 

Ten minutes later, Koujaku’s client is paying at the register, and Koujaku is smiling at her, grasping her hand in his as he thanks her for coming. She’s flushed and exuberant when she turns to face Aoba, digging around in her purse for something, and pulls out a small compact mirror. 

“Uhm,” she says, holding it out to Aoba. “Could I-- would you sign this for me, please?”

Aoba goes pink, smiling. “Oh, sure. Do you have a pen?”

“Catch, Aoba.” Koujaku tosses a sharpie at him, and Aoba manages to get it by the very tips of his fingers. He signs the compact’s cover deftly, and hands it back to her. 

“Here,” he says. 

“Thank you very much!” She bows, pleased. “And I’m very glad you got back to us safely!” 

“Ah, no, thank you,” answers Aoba, his flush darkening. “For supporting me.” 

With a final smile and wave at both Koujaku and Aoba, she leaves. 

“Aren’t you popular?” Koujaku teases, coming around the counter. 

“Shut up,” Aoba scowls. “Or you’re not getting your omiyage.” 

“Come on, Aoba,” Koujaku laughs. He slings an arm over Aoba’s shoulder, guiding him into the salon. “You’d do that to your old friend? After all these years?” 

“Don’t test me, Koujaku,” Aoba warns. 

The only reply from Koujaku is laughter, and he beams at him fondly. As the final customer’s cut is finished up, the salon begins to quiet. It’s past closing hours. Aoba finds it easier to drop by when no one is around, and it doesn’t inconvenience Koujaku any more than necessary. As a favour to him, Koujaku accommodates him. With a final wave goodbye to the stylist, Koujaku turns back to Aoba, who’s waiting by the hair washing station. A comfortable silence falls between them, punctuated only by Koujaku asking him of the water is all right as he starts to wash his hair. 

“Are you sure you just want a trim, Aoba?” Koujaku asks when they move to the seat in front of the mirror. “In this weather, wouldn’t it be better to go shorter?”

Aoba chews on his lower lip thoughtfully, and then shakes his head. “It’s not that bad as long as I tie it up.” 

“All right,” Koujaku says. “But if you change your mind later, you know who to call.” 

“Thanks,” Aoba says. He smiles at Koujaku in the mirror. “Maybe… this much?” 

He holds his hand up, finger and thumb held some distance apart. A few inches. 

“Got it,” Koujaku says. Grabbing a pin from his tool kit, Koujaku carefully twists Aoba’s hair up, pinning most of it up. “Layers, right?” 

“Mm-hm,” Aoba hums, closing his eyes. Koujaku’s touch is familiar and soothing. He doesn’t enjoy having people handle his hair, though he’s gotten better about it in the recent years. It’s impossible not to, but it’s a learned stimulus. 

The scissors snip rhythmically, Aoba settling in with a sigh. Five minutes later, Koujaku pauses. His fingers brush the hair from Aoba’s neck, and an awkward clearing of his throat follows. “Uh, Aoba.” 

“Yeah?” Aoba cracks his eyes open. 

“Who’s the lucky lady?” The corners of Koujaku’s lips are twitching, and he grins at Aoba. “You have hickeys all over your neck.”

Bolting upright, Aoba slaps his hand over the nape of his neck. He’s going to _kill_ Noiz. The colour’s rising furiously to his face, and he cranes his head to glare over his shoulder. “It’s nothing! They’re mosquito bites, or bug bites, or bed bugs--”

“Calm down,” Koujaku laughs. “I won’t ask anything else, for now. But I want an introduction, Aoba.”

“Just- just cut my hair, okay?” grumbles Aoba, and with one last remark, Koujaku does just that. 

Half an hour later, the two of them are out in the alley of Koujaku’s salon’s back entrance. Koujaku leans against the wall, arms folded casually over his chest. He surveys Aoba, and nods to himself. “Mm, as I thought. I outdid myself again.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Rolling his eyes, Aoba jams his hands into his pockets. “I’ll see you later tonight, right?” 

“Got it, Black Needle tonight. Oh, and Aoba?” 

“Uh-huh?”

“I’m glad you’re back,” says Koujaku. 

Aoba smiles at him. “It’s good to be back.”


	8. Extra: The Captain Has Now Turned off the Seat Belt Sign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry (belated) christmas, and happy holidays! here's a chapter that didn't quite fit in anywhere that i wanted to write. (basically it's a ton of porn.)

Flying isn’t Aoba’s strong suit. 

Unfortunately, it comes with the territory of doing what he does. Touring, press junkets, and various other scheduled appearances typically call for plane rides. Sometimes, if the destination is close enough, Aoba will opt for train. Unfortunately, with overseas locations, it isn’t always possible. When Germany happens to be nine thousand kilometres from Japan, flying is the fastest and most logical way of travel. Aoba briefly, irrationally considers taking a ship back rather than facing a ten-hour flight, but Noiz scoffs and books plane tickets for two. Munich to Midorijima, one way. First class. 

Maybe he’ll take sleeping pills and knock himself out for the duration of the flight. 

At least airports aren’t intimidating anymore. All the travel that Aoba’s done has acclimated him to it, and he navigates them with ease. The only effort required here is making sure he keeps a low profile. A hat, sunglasses, or a flu mask, typically does the trick. His hair is up in a ponytail today, baseball cap pulled on over it. Noiz isn’t taking any such precautions, the clean cut of his features unconcealed and his passport and boarding pass held in one hand. Aoba readjusts his duffel bag strap on his shoulder, tucking his documents into the side pocket of his bag. 

“We’re kind of early,” he says to Noiz. 

“That’s your fault,” Noiz points out. “I told you we’d make it on time if we left later.” 

“ _My_ fault-- Flying’s awful enough already, I didn’t want to miss our flight. ...actually, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Maybe we should turn around.” Aoba’s joking, and Noiz knows it. He throws him a fond look, their shoulders touching as they walk through the halls. 

“There’s a lounge we can wait in,” Noiz says. 

“Ah, is there?” Aoba perks up. Airline lounges mean free food, nicer seating, and a variety of other amenities that made waiting around in an uncomfortable airport terminal more comfortable. “Why didn’t you say so earlier? Lead the way!” 

“Lufthansa first class lounge,” Noiz confirms. “They can take you straight to your plane in a limo too, but I’ve never tried that out before.”

“Yeah, we’re _not_ doing that,” Aoba says, aghast. “The last thing I wanna do is attract more attention.” 

“Maybe next time.” Noiz smirks, and Aoba can’t tell if he’s kidding or not. “Come on.” 

Thirty minutes later finds them inside Lufthansa’s first class lounge, with Aoba sitting at the bar, a deer-in-headlights expression on his face as he sips at his rum and coke. The lounge is relatively quiet, with its scattering of occupants spread out. The service is attentive, and Aoba is craning his neck in an effort to see what the buffet spread is. The fact that there’s a buffet spread at all is amazing to him.

“Remind me to come here again next time,” he says in awe. “This is the biggest lounge I’ve ever been in.” 

“It's not bad,” Noiz shrugs.

“Not bad-- your standards are really something else, you know that?”

“Their buffet is okay-- lunch service in the restaurant is better. Want to try it?”

Aoba grimaces, and shakes his head. “I probably shouldn’t, I feel like I’m going to throw up.” 

Resting his hand lightly at the small of Aoba’s back, Noiz runs his palm up his spine, ending with a squeeze at his shoulder. “You’re really tense.” 

“Wow, I wonder why?” Aoba says sarcastically, downing the rest of his drink. “Maybe it’s because we’re about to get on an airplane.”

Noiz doesn’t answer him immediately, checking the time on his Coil. “We still have time. They have a couple rooms with beds here. You should lie down.” 

“What _don’t_ they have in here?” Aoba narrows his eyes at Noiz. He gets the feeling that Noiz is up to something, but he could be genuinely concerned. Either way, he trusts Noiz. It can’t be anything too bad. Giving up, Aoba nods and slides off the barstool. “...okay, let’s see those beds.” 

As it turns out, Noiz’s idea of helping Aoba unwind includes him lying down with Aoba and spooning him from behind. It turns out to be anything but restful, and honestly, Aoba should have seen it coming. Noiz has his head tucked over Aoba’s shoulder, breath warm as he kisses his ear and jaw. His arms are wrapped around his waist, thumbs skimming over Aoba’s hip bones.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re insatiable?” Aoba groans, burying his face against the pillow. “Get your hands out of my pants right now, Noiz.”

“Relax,” Noiz croons. “I’ve got you. Roll over for me.” 

“ _Why_ ,” Aoba demands. 

Noiz skims his hands up over Aoba’s back, and then presses his fingers over his shoulders, massaging circles over them. The effect is immediate, Aoba going pliant and groaning. Noiz says, “Gonna give you a massage.”

Magic words spoken, Aoba rolls over onto his stomach, and lets Noiz straddle him. Leaning over him, Noiz cracks his knuckles, and starts to work out the knots in Aoba’s back. He kneads every muscle thoroughly, and Aoba starts to gain a newfound appreciation for Noiz as he turns to jelly beneath him, making appreciative noises the entire time. 

“Right there,” he moans as Noiz pushes his thumb against a particularly tense spot. 

“Feeling good?” Aoba doesn’t have to see Noiz to see the grin he’s bound to be wearing. Dipping his head until he’s beside Aoba’s ear, Noiz murmurs, “Looks like you are.”

“Mmm,” Aoba sighs in agreement, sinking further into the bed as Noiz pushes his shirt up, smoothing his palms over the small of Aoba’s back. They’re a little rough, calloused and wonderfully limber. He’s utterly relaxed, too far gone to protest. “Where’d you learn how to do this?”

“The internet.” Noiz slides up from his seat on Aoba’s thighs, and Aoba stirs; Noiz is sliding his half-hard dick against his ass while he continues his massage, and despite himself, his cock reacts with similar interest. It’s the proximity and the state that Noiz’s touch has reduced him to, Aoba tells himself. Fists clenching at the sheets beneath him, he struggles not to make another sound, holding his breath. Noiz sweeps his hair aside to get at his neck, sucking wetly at his skin until a red mark blooms there. “You’re quiet.” 

“I think I’m relaxed now,” Aoba manages to grind out between gritted teeth. “Thanks, you can stop.” 

“Don’t wanna.” Wrapping his arms around Aoba’s waist, he pulls him up onto his knees, lining himself up behind Aoba. Grumbling deep in the back of his throat, Aoba buries his face in the pillow out of sheer embarrassment from the position they’re in, trying to close his legs together. Noiz notices, and nudges them back apart with his hand, undoing his own belt. Then he makes quick work of Aoba’s shorts and underwear, dragging them down past his hips and grasping Aoba’s cock firmly in his hand. 

With a jolt, Aoba turns his head, hair tousled and flushed. “Wait--”

He can feel the cool press of Noiz’s piercings dragging over his skin, the rumble of his voice at his ear. “Why?”

“Someone will _hear_ us,” says Aoba, muscles going weak when Noiz squeezes him, hard enough to tantalise. 

“Room’s soundproof.” Noiz mouths at his hair, dropping kisses on it. “You can let your voice out. I want to hear it.” 

“ _Noiz_ ,” Aoba groans upon hearing the pop of a cap. 

“That’s it,” Noiz growls. “Like that.” 

Aoba swallows his own protest, that it isn’t what he meant, but then Noiz is exhausting the tiny bottle of lube he has, squeezing half its contents onto his fingers. Warming them together, Noiz waits until the gel warms up before he spreads Aoba open, sliding two fingers in to the knuckles easily. Aoba whimpers at the sudden stretch, pushing his face back against the pillow to muffle his voice. 

“They’re going in so easily,” Noiz says, voice husky. Pulling them back out and pushing them back in, he crooks them, searching for the spot that’s guaranteed to make Aoba tighten around his fingers and keen shamelessly. He finds it almost immediately, pressing down and rubbing insistently. “Guess it’s because we did it last night. That means I can put it in pretty soon, doesn’t it? Aoba.” 

Refusing to indulge Noiz in the game he’s playing, Aoba doesn’t answer. It’s taking all he has to hold his voice back as Noiz chuckles, thrusting his fingers in and out of Aoba, making sure he brushes over his prostate every time. Sweat beads across his skin. Noiz dips his head down to lick it away, keeping his other hand loosely fisted around Aoba’s cock as he uses the other one to prepare him. 

Although “preparing” is putting it generously. A minute later, Noiz pulls his fingers out, wiping them carelessly on the sheets. He grabs hold of Aoba’s hips, pulling him towards him as he kneels behind him, squeezing his cheeks and holding them apart. Noiz hums to himself, and then licks at Aoba’s opening. 

Aoba starts in abject surprise, squeaking. “Noiz! That’s-- there is-” 

Voice dying in his throat when Noiz pries him open with his thumbs and kisses him before delving his tongue in again, Aoba squirms restlessly. It’s a hot, wet heat that pervades his insides. He tries to tell him to stop, that it’s dirty, but at the same time, it destroys him. Makes him roll his ass back for more as Noiz opens him up with his tongue, the sloppy sound of it turning him on. He whimpers, swears under his breath when Noiz rubs his thumb over the taut stretch of skin before his balls, and then takes them into hand, rolling them gently. 

“Thought you’d like that,” Noiz says after he withdraws with a final kiss to Aoba’s hole. There’s a pause during which he slicks the remainder of the lube over himself, and then his cock head bumps against Aoba. That’s the only warning Aoba gets before he buries himself deep inside in a single thrust. 

A gasp wrenches itself from his throat, and Aoba quivers, straining to keep quiet. Noiz’s cock is stretching him wide open, filling him to the brim. Without giving him a second to adjust, Noiz moves immediately in hard, fast strokes. It steals the breath from him, leaves Aoba with his mouth open but silent.

“Hey,” Noiz purrs. “What’s with that? I told you I want to hear your voice.” 

Changing angles, he takes care to aim every thrust on Aoba’s prostate, hand finding his dick again and pumping him in time to them. Unable to contain himself any longer, Aoba squeezes his eyes shut, sucking in a greedy breath, and in between broken moans, says, “N-Noiz.”

“It doesn’t hurt, right?”

Aoba shakes his head mutely, clutching the sheets like they’re his lifeline. It’s almost a mercy that he can’t see Noiz in this position-- with his face down and ass up-- because it means Noiz can’t see his, and he’s sure he looks absolutely debauched right now, clothes rumpled and pushed out of the way around him rather than removed and getting fucked within an inch of his life. He hopes Noiz’s claim of the room’s soundproofing is true, because he keeps on whimpering helplessly, cock unbearably hard and oozing precum onto Noiz’s hand. 

“I’ll wear you out until flying’s the last thing on your mind,” Noiz promises. Then he pauses. “But don’t blame me if you can’t walk later.” 

“Shut up already,” Aoba manages to say, and he’s proud of his own coherency until Noiz laughs and speeds up again. He doesn’t stop murmuring dirty nothings against Aoba’s ear, his weight a heavy warmth across Aoba’s back, cock splitting him open and pounding into him. The bed creaks in accompaniment to Aoba’s staccato sharp moans, mixing in with the heavy sound of Noiz’s panting. 

Stilling balls deep in him, Noiz grinds his cock at the center of Aoba’s insides, stirring him up. It drives him nearly crazy, reduces him into a mess of nerves and desire, with a singular craving for more, more, more of Noiz. And Noiz gives him just that. 

He doesn’t even have the breath to warn Noiz when he’s on the verge of coming, a choked groan the sole warning he gives. But the heat goes nowhere, the pressure built up to boiling point inside him with no release, and Aoba’s eyes fly open. Noiz is holding onto him so tightly that he can’t come, nibbling at the shell of his ear.

“Wait for me,” Noiz murmurs, crushing himself against Aoba. 

“I-- can’t-” Trying to wrench himself free, he tries to focus on the tight slide of Noiz’s shaft, the perfect drag of his piercing inside him. 

“Then ask for it,” breathes Noiz. “Aoba.” 

Again, he shakes his head, panting. Noiz has a habit-- well, Noiz has several habits, some of which Aoba privately thinks are awful-- in bed. One of them is that he likes to see Aoba come completely undone, like he’s trying to win some sort of award for reducing him to a complete wreck. Aoba never thought of himself as particularly vanilla in bed (he’s had his share of wild, youthful encounters), but Noiz seems utterly determined to try everything and anything with him. It isn’t that Aoba minds, and some part of him enjoys it just as much as Noiz does, but it can be overwhelming. Embarrassing. Damaging to his pride. 

Especially when Noiz refuses to give him what he wants, the drive of his cock into him merciless and the hand at the base of his erection leaving him unsatisfied. He bites at Aoba’s neck, licks and sucks at those bites until Aoba’s sure that he’ll have to resort to wearing collared shirts in this weather to hide what his hair can’t disguise. Freeing up his other hand, Noiz forms a ring with his index finger and thumb, sliding it down the length of Aoba’s dick and smearing the precum all over him. Aoba failing to bite down on his moan. 

“Pretty stubborn,” Noiz comments. “Your body is always more honest, so I can tell you want it bad. But I want to hear you say it this time. Can you do that, Aoba?”

The curl of Noiz’s voice, dark and illicit and warm around the syllables of his name should be illegal. It sends a thrill down Aoba’s spine, his toes curling against the mattress as he writhes. But there’s no relief to be found; Noiz has him fast and caught in his grasp. 

“Please,” Aoba finally gasps out, too far gone to care anymore about decorum. “ _Noiz_.”

A hum and a low chuckle follows, Noiz kissing the side of his head fondly. “Please what?”

“I want-- I want to-” Another sharp, pointed thrust at Aoba’s prostate cuts him off, and he cries out, walls clenching down around Noiz. There’s a sharp intake of breath from behind him.

“You want?” 

With a whine, Aoba forces the words out. “Let me… I need, ah-- I- wanna cum, _please_ \--”

“That’s it,” Noiz purrs approvingly. He starts to move again, drawing his cock out almost entirely before slamming home again. The hand gripping him slackens into a loose fist around him, pumping him quickly, in time to Noiz’s thrusts. “I’ll give it to you.”

Aoba doesn't last long. He can’t, not with Noiz pounding away at him and giving it to him perfectly, his arms collapsing and he claws at the sheets. He blows his load almost immediately, shooting cum all over Noiz’s hand in a messy release, some of it dripping down onto the bed. Noiz doesn’t give him a chance to catch his breath, releasing Aoba and seizing him by the hips, fucking him in rough, deep strokes. The bite of his belt buckle is cold against his thighs where it hits Aoba, jangling loudly.

“You feel so good,” Noiz pants. “You’re clenching down so tightly around me. Should I do it in you? Or outside?”

“Nnnh, ah--!!” Completely overwhelmed, oversensitive following his orgasm, Noiz’s cock rubbing him raw from the inside is too much, tears springing to the corner of his eyes. He shakes his head, only to hear a breathy laugh at his ear. Then Noiz goes rigid behind him, sheathing himself deep inside and stilling, and something hot spills inside him. Seconds later, Noiz pulls out, and rubs the last of his cum on Aoba’s ass. Fine threads of semen cling from the head of his cock to the soft skin of his ass.

Noiz’s bruising grip on his hips is the only thing keeping Aoba upright, and when he lets him go, Aoba flops down bonelessly. The mattress sinks as Noiz joins him. He slings a proprietary arm around him, breathing hard. They bask in the afterglow together. Aoba’s seized by the bone-deep weariness of someone who's exerted himself thoroughly. Noiz is in better shape-- he rises shortly after and disappears into the adjoining bathroom, re-emerging from it with a damp towel. 

Aoba stirs with a faint protest as Noiz wipes him down, urging him onto his knees again as he slides his fingers into his ass, brushing over his prostate. It sends a jolt of arousal straight to Aoba’s groin, but he snaps out a warning at Noiz instead, “We’re _not_ going again.”

“I’m cleaning,” Noiz says with perfect innocence. “Unless you want to spend the entire plane ride with it in you.” 

Struggling to keep his composure, Aoba plants his face back into the safety of the pillow. “You should’ve worn a condom.” 

“Forgot to bring one.” Noiz coaxes the cum into trickling out of Aoba, spreading him open and letting gravity do most of its work before he cleans Aoba off with the towel, gentle as can be.

“You brought lube but you didn’t bring a condom?” Aoba doesn’t buy it for a second, and he desperately focuses on it in hopes that his body won’t betray him by deciding that yeah, it could go for a round two.

“Feels better without it.” Noiz finishes up, and settles down beside Aoba, turning him onto his side to kiss him deeply, tongue sneaking into Aoba’s mouth and licking at the roof of his mouth. Aoba groans into it, clutching at Noiz’s shirt. He blinks at him, dazed, when Noiz pulls back, a thin thread of saliva joining them and then breaking. Noiz says, “Doesn’t it?”

“Huh?” 

“You like it, don’t you? My piercings. Because you always get so excited when I’m grinding them on that spot-- ah.”

Unable to take it anymore, Aoba seizes the pillow beside him and hits Noiz with it, completely red-faced. “Shut up!! I’m just saying, if you’re gonna do something like that, you should-- you should- anyway, now I feel like I need a shower.” 

“There is one.” 

“Hah?” Aoba squints at Noiz, trying to tell if he’s kidding or not. 

Noiz nods at the door that Aoba hasn’t noticed until now, opposite of the one they came in from. “Over there. It has a bath too.” 

At a total loss for words, Aoba gapes at him. Then he gathers himself up, kicking his shorts off his ankles and scoots off the bed. It takes everything he has to stand up, but he does. When he looks over his shoulder, Noiz is watching him, eyebrows raised and amused. 

Mustering up as much dignity as anyone can half-naked from the waist down and well fucked can, Aoba announces haughtily, “Then I’m going to go shower. We have time, right?”

“Yeah.” Noiz is tracing the curve of Aoba’s body with his eyes, and he rises to his feet as well.

“Alone!!” Aoba yelps, and scrambles into the bathroom at top speed-- which isn’t very fast. Noiz catches up to him in no time at all, hooking his arms around Aoba’s waist. It’s a stroke of luck. Aoba was on the verge of falling over, unbalanced and weak. But other than that, the massage did its job. He isn’t tense, only indignant and huffy. “No- _i_ -z…”

“What?” he asks, burying his face in the crook of Aoba’s neck. They shuffle forward in tandem, with Noiz clinging to Aoba like a baby koala. “I’m going with you to make sure you don’t fall in there.”

Giving up, Aoba sighs loudly. “Fine, but we have to be quick, or we’ll miss the plane!”

 

\-----

 

They end up making it to their terminal at the tail end of boarding, and onto the plane without further delay. Aoba’s hair is clean, damp from the shower, his ponytail’s wet ends clinging to his neck. There’s no helping the wrinkles in Noiz’s button up shirt, formed when he left it crumpled by the sink in the bathroom, but upon entering the plane, both of them are handed a kit full of toiletries and a pair of complementary pajamas. 

The first class cabin is spacious, composed of two rows of seating: large, luxurious armchairs on the aisle side, and a fully made bed beside it, by the airplane windows. Aoba thinks he’s unlikely to ever get over all the available leg room in first class compared to economy and even business. He examines his surroundings with unabashed interest, stowing away his carry-on bag absently. Noiz and him are seated in the same row, with the aisle separating them. A flight attendant offers both of them champagne, and Aoba accepts, munching on the macadamia nuts that come along with the drink. Nerves are beginning to flutter in his stomach, and he pays attention to the safety instructions. He always does.

“Relax,” Noiz tells him. 

Aoba turns to him. He says unconvincingly, “I’m fine.” 

The crew begins to make its final checks, jargon filtering overhead on the speakers as the plane rolls down the taxiway. Noiz frowns, and drums his hands on the armrest with a short sigh. “We’re taking off. I’ll sit with you when we’re in the air.”

A familiar rumble starts up as the plane picks up speed, and Aoba can’t do anything other than nod and close his eyes as they take off. 

To his relief, they make it into the air without incident. As soon as the seatbelt sign is turned off, Noiz unbuckles his and makes his way over to Aoba, sitting on the bed beside Aoba. Aoba reaches for his hand, and Noiz takes it. His grip is firm, and Aoba manages to smile at him. 

“Wanna look at the menu together? The food is usually pretty good on long flights.” Aoba pulls the menu out from the side compartment, and together, they pore over the selection. Their flight is an evening one, and dinner service happens to be first-- a full three course meal. 

After picking out what to eat and placing their order, they lounge around together. Only half the seats in first class are occupied, and the layout offered plenty of privacy. Aoba’s beginning to relax, Noiz’s presence offering a distraction, and a sense of security. It’s funny, now that he thinks about it. How Noiz has gone from being a complete stranger who happened to be sitting next to him, to this. His boyfriend. Everything they are now.

“Remember when we first met?” he asks Noiz. 

Noiz replies with an affirmative sound, and says, “Tokyo to Midorijima. Short flight. There was turbulence.” 

“Right, and you just kept typing away like it wasn’t even happening. Come to think of it, you were kind of a jerk.” 

“Turbulence is normal.” Noiz pauses, and his brows knit together. “You kept telling me weird things, even though you didn’t know me.” 

Aoba rolls his eyes at him. “Anyway, I was thinking that it’s funny. I hate flying, but we probably wouldn’t have had the same-- connection, I guess-- if we met somewhere else.” 

“Not true,” Noiz says.

“Eh?”

“Thought you were good looking when I saw you,” Noiz says nonchalantly. “And we met again later too. At your brother’s company.”

Flustered, Aoba retorts, “Well, you can think someone is cute but not do anything about it!”

“I would’ve asked you out.” Noiz smirks at Aoba. “But you beat me to it. It was pretty forward.”

“ _I_ was forward? You kissed me first!” On second thought, bringing this up was a bad idea. Aoba’s kicking himself for it. 

“Because I felt like it.”

“Again with that--”

Noiz interrupts him. “Since we would’ve met again without talking on the plane first… isn’t that what you’d call ‘fate’”? 

Jaw dropping, Aoba blushes furiously. “It was a coincidence, a coincidence!” 

“Hmm.” Noiz’s expression is less than convinced.

“Either way,” Aoba continues. “Whatever it was, I’m glad we did meet.” 

Noiz’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly before he turns his face away, a dusting of pink splashed across his cheeks. It’s an out of place, too innocent look on a face full of piercings, but somehow. Somehow, Aoba thinks, it suits him. Noiz’s eyes dart back to Aoba. “...me too.” 

They stare at each other, linked hands situated comfortably between them. A happiness wells up within Aoba, and it lingers throughout their meal. Through a feat of plate shuffling and tetris, the cabin crew manages to fit both his and Noiz’s food together on the same space, at Aoba’s request. They eat together slowly, sampling each other’s food and talking companionably. The courses arrive at set intervals, and by the time they finish with dessert, Aoba is pleasantly full and sleepy. But there’s one more thing he wants to do.

“I think I’m gonna change into these pajamas and see if I can get some sleep,” he says to Noiz, standing up. The floor is steady beneath his feet. 

Noiz gets up as well, and sends Aoba a heated look. “The bathroom should be big enough for two.”

And he’s right. 

Under the guise of helping him change, Noiz wheedles his way into the bathroom with him. By airplane standards, the bathroom is downright spacious. A wide sink and counter takes up most of the area, with a plush bench built into the opposite wall. The toilet is tucked behind a separate partition. 

Aoba takes a moment to gain his bearings, and then pins Noiz against the counter, tilting his head and kissing him. To his credit, Noiz returns it almost immediately, catching Aoba’s lower lip and sucking at it. Aoba leans into him, taking his time in mapping out every inch of Noiz’s mouth with his tongue. He savours the rub of Noiz’s tongue piercing on him, and reaches down to grope Noiz through his pants. 

Noiz is half hard by the time Aoba maneuvers him into sitting on the bench, lips flushed and just a bit swollen from kissing. He combs his hand through Aoba’s hair, pulling it out of its ponytail while Aoba undoes his pants, kneeling between his legs. 

“Hoh?” Noiz chuckles. “Is this special service?”

“It’s payback for the massage,” Aoba tells him, easing his underwear down just far enough for his cock to spring free. The piercings glitter in the light, and a drop of precum beads at the top of Noiz’s erection. Holding the base firmly in one hand, Aoba presses an open mouthed chain of kisses from bottom to top, deliberately sloppy in his delivery. Noiz looks on with interest, eyes warm and affectionate, his fingertips a light pressure on Aoba’s shoulder.

Noiz tastes like clean skin, tinged with a faint bitterness from the fluid that’s starting to well from him in greater volume. Licking over him in broad stripes, Aoba pays special attention to the piercings studded all over Noiz, nudging them with his tongue. He’s rewarded with a low groan from Noiz, who pushes at the back of Aoba’s head. 

“Suck it,” he says. 

Aoba hums, rubbing his cheek against Noiz’s length, and Noiz’s hips jerk up. “What’s the magic word?”

No immediate answer. Aoba has to wonder if Noiz will answer at all, when he finally says grudgingly, “Please.”

“Good boy.” He can’t resist teasing Noiz, but it’s the last thing he says before he takes Noiz into his mouth, sucking hard at the head. Above him, Noiz jerks, and Aoba feels his cock twitch. He works his hand over what isn’t weighing heavy on his tongue, his own cock heavy and hard in his pants. Aoba fumbles with his own pants and pushes his hand down them, curling his hand around himself.

“More,” Noiz breathes out, and Aoba’s gratified to hear the ragged edge in his voice. 

Noiz is big, and Aoba struggles to fit him into his mouth, going slowly and carefully down as far as he can and then easing off of him with a loud pop. He bobs his head over him, the wet sound of him sucking Noiz off filling the room. Noiz is being careful, holding himself back from shoving himself right to the hilt into the heat of Aoba’s mouth. 

“Can I fuck your mouth?” he asks, brushing Aoba’s fringe off his forehead. Aoba nods, and Noiz promptly snaps his hips up, using Aoba’s mouth unceremoniously. Aoba’s eyes water, and he gags around Noiz, holding back his gag reflex. Noiz runs his hands through his hair, eyes dark. “You look good like this, trying not to choke on me. Do you like how it tastes?”

Aoba moans around Noiz as he dirty talks him, gripping himself tightly, lightly dragging his nails over his cock. He does like it; likes hearing Noiz go breathless and groan when he hollows his cheeks around him as Noiz fucks his mouth. He’s drooling, glassy-eyed and lips swollen, and he chokes for real when Noiz shoves his head down, the tip of his dick touching his throat. Swallowing the best he can around him, Aoba glances up when Noiz prompts him to with a touch at his jaw. 

“Lewd,” Noiz growls, grinding his hips up. Aoba whines at the back of his throat, and Noiz shudders. “That’s it, _good boy._ ” 

It’s a deliberate taunt; Aoba ignores it, coming up for air with a loud gasp. But Noiz is impatient, pushing him back down on his cock almost immediately after. 

“Use your teeth,” Noiz says, and Aoba rolls his eyes, used to this. On every thrust into his mouth, Aoba scrapes his teeth along Noiz’s cock, and when he notices that Noiz has relinquished control back to him, he works his way down him. Tugs at the piercings gently and sinks his teeth into the head of his cock before engulfing him with his mouth again. He bites down at the base, and feels Noiz’s shaft jump. 

“Gonna come--” Noiz warns airily, and presses Aoba’s head down again so he’s got him so deep in his mouth that his nose tickles the pale patch of hair crowning Noiz’s cock. Cum spurts into his throat, and slides down it easily. Aoba swallows every last drop. He kisses the tip when Noiz finally releases him, licking him clean. His throat aches, and he’s sure his voice will be hoarse. 

The two of them catch their breaths. Noiz leans back against the wall, chest heaving and eyes too bright with interest, watching as Aoba fists his cock and clenches his eyes shut, finishing himself off quickly. He muffles his moans with his hand when he orgasms, his entire body tensing and then relaxing. Aoba falls forward, head resting against Noiz’s leg. Noiz smooths Aoba’s hair down, tracing his finger over Aoba’s ear. 

Eventually, they clean up and change, heading back to their seats. Noiz makes a nuisance of himself, insisting that Aoba take the bed and sits himself down in Aoba’s chair so Aoba can’t. Too tired to argue any further, Aoba curls up in the bed, watching Noiz through half-lidded eyes. A part of him can’t believe what he just did, but another part is pleased, and sated.

“I was hoping I could drag you into the bathroom at some point,” Noiz admits. “But I didn’t think it’d be the other way around.” 

“It must be nice to be young,” Aoba grumbles. Like he thought, his voice is nearly gone. “Aren’t you tired? If you’re gonna sit there, be quiet.”

Noiz ignores the scolding. He leans over, kissing Aoba on the temple, the corners of his mouth tilted up in a smug half-smile. “That was hot. Let’s do it again next time.” 

“There won’t be a next time!” Aoba barks, and turns over onto his side. “I’m going to sleep!” 

Unfortunately, Noiz knows him well enough by now to know when he’s bluffing, and he continues to tease Aoba mercilessly, until at last they both quiet. 

Aoba sleeps through the entire flight, and when he wakes up before landing, doesn’t think of crashing even once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lufthansa's first class lounge in munich's bedrooms aren't actually soundproof, but i took the liberty of tweaking them a little for this scenario's sake! and i am pretty sure their bathrooms are separate from the bedrooms too lmao.
> 
> if anyone is curious as to what the first class cabin does look like, just google "lufthansa first class"!


	9. Landing

Midorijima’s streets are lively and well-lit, people present and spilling out from shops and alleys onto the sidewalks, no matter what the hour. Dark never falls entirely on city. Aoba adores it, loves Midorijima in all its gaudy neon sign glory and bustling island cheer.

He’s in a good mood when he steps into Silent Oath, humming in the elevator as he rides straight to the top. The building is quiet, most of the employees having gone home for the night. Apart from Sei, whom Aoba finds in his office, trouncing Noiz soundly at a retro racing game. Noiz mashes at the buttons of his controller furiously, and Sei is laughing, the delighted tinkle of it like chimes.

“You’re cheating,” Noiz accuses Sei, his glower and thunderous expression reminiscent of dark clouds gathered and seconds away from drowning everyone in a vicious downpour.

“I am not,” Sei says primly as his character on the massive screen races through the finish line.

“He’s not cheating,” Aoba says from the threshold, grinning. “Sei doesn’t lose.”

“Aoba!” Sei drops the controller on the desk. They meet halfway, and Sei sweeps him up in a hug, and Aoba reels on the impact. He laughs, arms tightening around him. “You’re finally back!”

“Sorry, I meant to come by as soon as I landed, but I passed out as soon as I got home. Thanks for waiting for me.” Loosening his grip, Aoba pulls back far enough to smile at Sei, and over his shoulder, at Noiz.

“Aah, and then you went to see Koujaku, didn’t you? Your hair looks good.” Sei runs his fingers through the freshly cut ends of Aoba’s hair, examining the tips. “Maybe I should go get my hair cut soon too.”

Noiz interjects. “Could’ve just told me we were waiting for him.”

“Oh! I didn’t?” Sei exclaims, covering his mouth. “I thought I did. I’m sorry, Noiz. I must’ve gotten more caught up in the game than I realised.”

“...it’s fine.”

Staying mad at Sei is difficult, and Aoba isn’t surprised that Noiz can’t either, his gaze flicking off to the side. There’s a pause in the conversation. Aoba and Sei disentangle themselves from each other, but stay close. The video game music jangles in the background, and Aoba looks at his Coil, checking the time.

“We should get going,” Aoba says, and then clarifies. “For dinner.”

“Mm, right. It’ll be bad if we’re late.” Sei starts to tidy up, turning off the gaming system.

“Dinner?” Noiz asks, trailing after Aoba out of the office. Their fingertips brush. “Together?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Aoba says. “I thought I did.”

“You two really are alike,” Noiz mumbles.

“Well, we’re twins, after all.” Flanking Noiz, Sei falls in step with them. The three of them exit the building together, and Aoba’s delighted to see the discomfort manifesting itself subtly on Noiz’s face. Someone who doesn't know him well wouldn't be able to tell, but, Aoba realises with a jolt, he can now. It's rare for him to throw Noiz for a turn, but today, he-- and Sei-- have managed to do it.

“Aoba hasn't introduced you to him yet, has he?” Sei says as they meld into the flow of people on the sidewalk. “Koujaku.”

“He talks about him a lot,” says Noiz, a hint of a sulk in his tone that Aoba misses.

“Eh? Do I?” Startled, Aoba glances at both of them. “Well, Koujaku is one of my best friends. We grew up together. He's a hairdresser.”

“I want to meet him,” Noiz says.

“I'm surprised you haven't already,” Sei says.

“Funny you'd mention that,” Aoba says. “‘cause you will, after dinner. If you're not too tired.”

“I'm fine, I slept on the plane. Where are you taking me for dinner?” Noiz asks.

“That's a surprise too,” Sei giggles.

They’re getting closer to their destination, the area slowly going from a mixture of restaurants and shops to residential. Aoba walks without watching where he’s going. This is a route he’s taken a million times before, and it’s engraved into his memory. He says to Sei and Noiz, “We’re almost there.”

“Home,” Sei tells Noiz when they stop in front of a modest, two-story building. It’s lit from within, and Aoba pushes the gate open, letting Sei head in first. Noiz is hanging back, frowning at the house as though personally offended. Aoba nudges him with his shoulder, and Noiz flicks his gaze towards him.

“Are you gonna come in, or what?” Aoba says.

“Your grandmother lives here,” Noiz says, frown deepening. “You didn’t tell me we were coming here.”

“Sei does too. And you didn’t tell me you were taking me to meet Theo either,” Aoba points out. Admittedly, that’s partly why he kept it a surprise.

“I would’ve brought something.”

“For Granny? Don’t worry, you don’t need to! I just want you to meet her.”

With a long-suffering sigh, Noiz gives as Aoba pushes him towards the house, knitting his brow together into a moody frown. Aoba knows he’s got him-- fair is fair. It’s obvious that Theo’s important to him, and Aoba suspects part of Noiz’s insistence on him going to Germany was because he wanted them to meet. Fair is fair. If they’re doing this-- if they’re making their relationship official, Aoba wants Noiz to meet the people important to him in his life. Just like Noiz.

“Granny! I’m back, Granny!” Aoba calls out, heading into the kitchen with Noiz in tow. He kicks the door shut behind them.

“I heard you the first time! Get in here and make yourself useful, already!”

The aroma of food drifts out into the hall, the center and cause of it originating from the kitchen. Tae is busy plating out food, and Sei is starting to set the table. Aoba pulls Noiz in with him.

Tae pauses in what she’s doing, and turns to scrutinise them. “You’re too thin. What have you been doing overseas? Starving yourself?”

Aoba waves off the familiar worries with a laugh. “I’ve been eating plenty. And this is Noiz. Noiz, this is my grandma, Seragaki Tae.”

Noiz’s posture straightens; he strides forward, and clasps Tae’s hand. It’s the most formal Aoba has ever seen him, the most earnest and sincere. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been in your grandsons’ care.”

They size each other up, Tae in her apron and formidable despite her head barely reaching Noiz’s shoulder, and Noiz with his head inclined gravely, a contradictory mess of bad boy piercings and neatly pressed shirt. Her eyes fall down to where Aoba and Noiz’s hands are joined, and her mouth twitches. She raises an eyebrow at Aoba, and Aoba smiles hopefully back, inclining his head ever so slightly.

“Hmph,” Tae snorts finally. “I’d say you’re all old enough to take care of yourself, but you’re just as scrawny as Aoba is. Drop the formalities-- they’re a waste of time. Sit down; the food will be ready in a minute.”

Aoba lets out his breath in a long whoosh, and chimes in brightly. “I’ll set the table!”

Before long, everything is on the table, and everyone is seated around it. Aoba closes his eyes. The food smells good-- it isn’t anything fancy, but it’s familiar and filling. It reminds him of home, and he basks in it. Conversation slows to a lull, without much more than an occasional _this is great_ and the clack of utensils. Noiz and Aoba are seated next to each other, with Tae and Sei across from them.

Dinner passes by easily-- whenever he thinks back to this night later on, all he remembers how comfortable and easy it was. Tae had grilled Noiz in her own fashion, but Noiz had been surprisingly compliant.

“We’re gonna swing by the Black Needle later,” Aoba says.

“Any later and you’ll be early,” Tae replies with a snort.

“I’m going with them,” Sei says, smiling.

“Don’t drink too much,” she says. Nodding at Noiz, Tae gives him a once over, sighs, and smiles. “Stay out of trouble.”

Noiz surprises Aoba with his answer. “We will.”  
  


 

\---

 

“There they are! Aoba, Sei, over here!” Mizuki is hanging out from one of the half booths in the bar, waving like Aoba will somehow miss him-- Dry Juice is spacious, but it isn’t cavernous. Sei and Aoba exchange looks, and grin before waving back.

“Sei, you go ahead-- we’ll catch up to you,” Aoba says, and Sei nods, strolling over to where Mizuki and Koujaku are sitting.

Taking a deep breath, he smiles. “Ready?”

“For what? Are they gonna eat me?” Noiz raises his hand, stroking Aoba’s cheek tenderly. “They can’t have me, ‘cause I have to pay you back for tricking me earlier.”

Aoba frowns at him, grabbing his hand. “ _I_ was paying _you_ back. It doesn’t work that way.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“It doesn’t!”

“I’m glad you didn’t cut your hair short,” Noiz says instead, curling a strand of Aoba’s hair around his fingers. “I like it long.”

Aoba goes pink. “Are you gonna stand here all night and flirt with me, or are we gonna meet my friends?”

Seizing Noiz’s other hand, the two of them grapple with each other briefly, fingers slotted together and shuffling as they push back and forth. Aoba starts to laugh, and finally gives, yanking free. He jogs towards the booth ahead of Noiz, just fast enough to stay out of reach until he gets to the table. Three pairs of eyes turn to him, and Aoba tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear, smiling from ear to ear.

Mizuki and Koujaku are seated next to each other, and Sei next to Mizuki. Aoba slides in next to Koujaku, and Noiz moves to sit beside him.

“Aoba! What took you so long?” Koujaku asks, throwing an arm over his shoulder with a broad smile.

“Oh, nothing.” Aoba shoots a glare at Noiz, and then flicks his eyes back to Koujaku. “Guys, this is Noiz. Noiz-- you’ve met Mizuki, sort of, and this jerk beside me is Koujaku.”

“Hey again,” Mizuki says, with a low, impressed whistle before offering his hand. Noiz shakes it. “I never got a chance to tell you I dig the piercings. You do them yourself?”

“Yeah,” Noiz says. “Most of them.”

“So you’re the one who’s working with Sei and Aoba,” Koujaku says, appraising Noiz. “You’re a lot younger than I expected.”

Aoba winces, and gets ready to kick Noiz or Koujaku from underneath the cover of the table.

Noiz doesn’t reply immediately, holding out his left hand. Koujaku has to move his arm from around Aoba to shake with Noiz, and Aoba leans back awkwardly. “I’m good at what I do.”

There’s an awkward pause as Noiz and Koujaku maintain eye contact for longer than necessary, and Aoba groans to himself. He knows Noiz can be brusque, to put it nicely, and Koujaku has a tendency to exhibit what Aoba likes to call alpha male behaviour. The air is practically crackling with tension, everyone else around the table watching avidly.

“You must be; Sei and Aoba only work with the best,” Koujaku says finally, and Aoba does his best not to sigh in relief.

“Noiz is excellent,” Sei says. “But you make it sound like we’re stuck up, Koujaku!”

“Ah, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” Koujaku backtracks.

“I’m not stuck up,” Aoba says, half offended, half amused. “Am I?”

“Don’t worry, Aoba, the only one who’s actually stuck up here is Koujaku,” Mizuki jumps in, grinning. “Did you know he made me wipe my shoes off before he let me in his car the other day?”

“What-- I don’t remember that!” Koujaku splutters.

“...they’re both talented,” Noiz interrupts. “Aoba and Sei.”

“Of course they are,” Koujaku says.

“Okay, can we stop with this? It’s getting embarrassing. Let’s get drinks!” Aoba flags down one of the staff.

Aoba offers to buy the first round; Koujaku buys the next, and then at some point, the alcohol keeps flowing, and so does the conversation. They talk about this and that before devolving into a game of two lies and one truth, except everyone is cheating and telling three lies, each one more grandiose and impossible than the next. The alcohol relaxes Aoba bit by bit. He’s got a good buzz going on, thigh pressed up against Noiz’s, nestling against him.

“I had a customer once who wanted his dick tattooed, can you believe that?” Mizuki says.

Sei laughs. “But this whole game is about lying! How can we believe anything you’re saying?”

“I don’t believe it,” Aoba scoffs. “What’s the point of getting a tattoo there?”

“Don’t some people get piercings there?” Koujaku says, glancing at Noiz. Everyone else follows suit.

Noiz’s mouth tips up at the corners, cupping his glass with one hand. “One: you can get a tattoo anywhere on your body.”

Everyone chortles.

“Two: ...only one person here knows where the rest of my piercings are.”

Aoba is suddenly fascinated with a scratch on the table.

“Three, they’re all on my face,” Noiz finishes. Underneath the table and out of sight, he caresses Aoba’s thigh. Aoba nudges Noiz’s hand away.

He announces to everyone at the table, “Be right back, gotta go to the washroom.” Standing up, he slides out of the booth.

“I’m gonna guess the first one,” Mizuki says.

“So you _can_ get a tattoo anywhere?” Sei asks Mizuki, eyes bright with mischief.

The last strains of their conversation fade, drowned out by the chatter of the rest of the patrons at the shop, and grow even more muted yet when Aoba heads down the hallway the bathroom is located in. He’s a little wobbly on his feet-- overdid it with the alcohol, probably, because of nerves. Thankfully, it seems like Noiz is getting along okay with everyone else, and everyone else with Noiz.

After he finishes up and heads back out, he nearly runs into someone, stumbling and hitting the wall.

“Sorry-- oh, it’s you. Watch where you’re going, Koujaku!” Aoba says, belligerent.

“Watch where I’m going?” Koujaku grabs Aoba’s arm, steadying him. “You’re drunk, Aoba.”

“I’m not drunk, I’m tipsy. There’s a difference. Did you come here just to lecture me, or are you gonna use the bathroom?”

“You’re an adult,” Koujaku says, and hesitates. Aoba waits for it, and Koujaku continues. “...but sometimes I forget that. I watched you grow up, after all.”

“You really do sound like an old man when you talk like that,” Aoba teases.

“I’m used to looking out for you. Old habits die hard.”

Leaning against the wall, Aoba offers Koujaku a smile. “I know. You’re a great guy, Koujaku.”

Koujaku clears his throat, looking extremely awkward. “...can I ask you something, Aoba?”

“Sure, what?”

“That kid out there, that you and Sei are working with--”

“Noiz,” Aoba supplies helpfully. Noiz, and his surprisingly vulnerable interior behind his cool front. Noiz, eyes full of a subtle fondness and warmth when he looks at Aoba. Noiz is a good guy. ...maybe he’s a little drunk.

“Right.” Fiddling with his fringe, Koujaku seems to be reluctant to say whatever it is that’s on his mind.

“So? What about him?”

“Ah, yeah. I was thinking, you two seem pretty close. Is he why you went to Germany?”

Aoba crosses his arms. He figured this was coming, and he hasn’t exactly been trying to hide it from anyone. “He asked me, and I wanted to. We… we’re going out.”

Koujaku doesn’t seem surprised. Rather, he looks concerned, his brow furrowed as he breathes out in a long sigh. “Why him? He seems like-- well, not like your type.”

“This is the first time you’ve met him, Koujaku. Trust me, he’s different once you get to know him.” Noiz doesn’t and didn’t make a great first impression with him the first time they met either, but Aoba gave him a chance, and it paid off.

“It’s not that I don’t trust your judgement, Aoba, but you can be too easy on people.”

“Can’t you just give him a chance?” Aoba asks.

“Something about him just rubs me the wrong way,” Koujaku says.

“Really?” Aoba levels a flat, unimpressed stare at him. “That’s it?”

“Look--”

“Hey.” From the end of the hall, Noiz approaches them. He reaches out for Aoba once he’s close enough, reeling him in by the waist. Aoba takes it a step further by leaning against the length of Noiz, and kissing him messily. Koujaku splutters incoherently.

He’s rewarded by the bafflement written in Noiz’s widened eyes, and the squeeze at his hip as he murmurs against Aoba’s lips, “Thought you got lost back here.”

Squirming in two parts delight and one part bashfulness, Aoba ignores how Koujaku and Noiz start staring each other down, kissing Noiz again, this time on the cheek with pointed affection. Open, public displays of affection aren’t normally something he does, but he’s also upset with Koujaku. “No, Koujaku and I were just talking.”

“Aoba, you’re drunk,” Koujaku tells him again.

“He is,” Noiz agrees, licking his lips.

“Can’t a guy get buzzed around here without everyone judging?” Aoba says, outraged.

Shaking his head, Koujaku sighs. “Let’s go back to the booth. I bet Mizuki and Sei are wondering where we all ran off to.”  
“Go ahead,” Noiz says to Koujaku.

Koujaku looks torn, lingering in the hallway until Aoba jerks his chin up at him. “Be right there.”

After Koujaku’s gone, Noiz jumps Aoba, pushing him to the wall and swallowing up Aoba’s yelp of his name with his mouth. Languid and warm from the alcohol, Aoba’s quick to reciprocate, melting into Noiz’s touch, the slow stroke of his fingers up his spine. He kisses back ferociously, tugging at Noiz’s lip with his teeth, their mouths colliding in his haste.

Noiz smooths down Aoba’s hair when they part, tugging him from the wall. A smile tugs at his mouth. “What happened to ‘be right there’”?

“It’s only been five minutes,” Aoba grumbles, trying to kiss Noiz again.

To his dismay, Noiz half leads, half carries him back to the booth instead, where he topples into his seat unceremoniously, next to Mizuki this time. Aoba has one drink too many throughout the night, until Mizuki cuts him off, and he ignores Koujaku with a frosty silence he perfected in their childhood. He’s half asleep by the time the gathering breaks up.

“I’ll take him home,” he hears Koujaku say.

“I’ve got it,” is Noiz’s curt reply.

“Listen, kid--”

“Come on, Koujaku, let him do it. Can you take Sei back for me? I gotta help close up here.”

The rest of the conversation fades out, and Aoba is vaguely aware of leaving the Black Needle, and getting into a cab with Noiz. Then he’s back in his own apartment, sprawled out on his bed with Noiz curled around him, one arm thrown over Aoba.

“I never thought I’d get to see you shit-faced,” Noiz says.

“‘m not drunk,” Aoba insists.

Noiz’s laugh is a sharp burst, a _haha_ in the quiet of Aoba’s room. His knuckles brush over the curve of Aoba’s cheek, a touch so light that Aoba half thinks he must already be dreaming. He leans into it. “Go to sleep, Aoba.”

“Okay,” Aoba mumbles, and does just that.  
  


 

\---

 

“Tell him to go away,” Aoba says to Ren, who is nosing at his ankles, fur tickling him. His head is pounding, and no amount of painkillers eased his headache. Probably he shouldn’t have drank so much last night, but it’d been a special occasion.

Ren whines. Normally, the mechanical intonation of it would’ve made him laugh, but he’s in a fine mood today. The intercom is ringing insistently, and when it falls silent, his Coil starts to sound. It’s Koujaku calling. Throwing his hands up in the air, Aoba picks up.

“It’s me,” Koujaku says.

“Who?” Aoba grumbles.

“Aoba,” Koujaku says. “Don’t be mad at me, Aoba.”

“You can’t be Koujaku, because my _friend_ Koujaku would be happy for me.”

“I _am_ happy for you,” Koujaku insists. “It’s just-- just- Look, I was… surprised. I shouldn’t have judged Noiz so quickly.”

“Say it again,” Aoba says, already half mollified.

“I’ll give him a chance,” Koujaku says. “And I know you’re hungover-- I brought you takeout from that place you like on Aoyagi street.”

Aoba buzzes him up.

True to his word, Koujaku brings with him dinner for two, and they end up eating it straight out of the styrofoam containers on Aoba’s living room couch, the TV playing in the background. It’s familiar and comforting and it reminds Aoba of before-- back when he wasn’t anybody, and Koujaku would drop by for dinner and they’d eat together just like this.

They talk about everything except for Noiz. About Sei, about Tae, about when Aoba will be going on his next tour. Koujaku recounts a tale of a client who dropped in during the week that has Aoba in stitches, clutching a cushion to his chest and howling with laughter.

“That’s what you get for flirting so much!”

“All women deserve to be spoken to gently, Aoba,” says Koujaku, mock hurt written on his expression.

“You’re giving them the wrong idea.”

“I,” Koujaku says, and stops. “Hmm.”

“See, see! I’m right,” Aoba crows.

Rather than argue the point, Koujaku throws his hands up in the air helplessly. His brow furrows as he scratches Ren behind the ears, and hesitantly, he says, “Speaking of ideas…”

“Don’t even start,” Aoba warns.

“That brat--”

“His name is _Noiz._ Seriously, what do you have against him?”

“Nothing,” Koujaku says. “What I’m worried about is you, Aoba.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, Koujaku.” Sighing, Aoba picks at the last of his food.

“I know that. I’m saying this as your old friend, I’m worried. I looked him up--”

“You googled Noiz?!” The ridiculousness of it startles Aoba to laughter, and Koujaku raises his voice to be heard over it.

“Listen, Aoba, what are you going to do after he’s done here? He lives all the way in Germany! I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Calming down, Aoba gulps for air, reaching for his water. Koujaku isn’t wrong, and he knows that, but. But. He thinks of Noiz and how he refused to look him in the eye in the elevator of Usagimodoki, of his brash, careless offer of the world (a car) to Aoba, and his heart clenches. What he says instead is, “Has anyone ever told you you’re really dramatic?”

“Aoba.” Koujaku levels his gaze at him, and Aoba purses his lips at him.

“I already know,” he says, shrugging. “But I figured we could make it work, if we really wanted to. I travel a lot anyway.”

“You hate flying,” Koujaku points out.

Scowling at him, Aoba picks at the throw rug tossed over the arm of his couch. “I’m getting better at it. And it’s my relationship, not yours.”

Koujaku deflates against the couch, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. Aoba glowers at him for all of five seconds, before he starts to clean up the takeout, stuffing chopsticks in the containers and closing them up. Koujaku moves to help him. He cracks open the patio door after, lighting up a cigarette and taking a long drag. Finally, he says, “Just promise me you won’t do something crazy, like agree to move to Germany.”

“What,” Aoba half gasps, half laughs. “Is that what you’re worried about? Midorijima’s my home!”

Even Koujaku cracks into a smile, rubbing the back of his head. “You never know. People can do crazy things when they’re in love.”

“I-- I’m not,” Aoba says. He can feel himself going red, and curses his lack of a poker face. “I’m not moving to Germany!”

Surveying him with his eyes half closed, Koujaku exhales, smoke curling around his features briefly. “Yeah. Sorry, maybe I’ve been watching too many dramas at the salon.”

“No kidding,” Aoba says.

They lapse back into silence that Aoba barely hears over the pounding of his pulse in his ears.  
  


 

\---

 

Nursing a worn, chipped blue mug of black coffee, Aoba’s perched on the edge of the desk in a room. A room a lot like the one he’d brought Noiz to, the first time they ran into each other at Silent Oath. Noiz, Sei, and a handful of other employees are breathlessly gathered around a computer terminal. Aoba rubs at his eyes. He takes another sip of his coffee, and wrinkles his nose. It’s gone cold.

“And… there!”

With a final tap to the keys, Sei hits enter with a flourish. _Beep_. 

 

The room erupts into cheers, the coffee in Aoba’s cup jostling dangerously as Sei seizes him in an exuberant hug. Aoba laughs, the fatigue jolted from him. Noiz, standing at the corner of the desk closest to Aoba, creeps his hand across the desk and touches his fingertips, careful and casual.

“So that’s it?” Aoba asks, beaming.

“Well, not exactly,” Sei says. “There’s still testing to be done, but this is a little like finishing the first draft!”

“Which means it needs cleaning up,” adds one of the programmers.

“And testing.”

“Quality check.”

“But it’s _basically_ done, right?” Aoba interrupts.

“Yeah.” This time, it’s Noiz who answers.

“Great!” Yawning, Aoba hops off the desk. “Then we can all go home and get some sleep!”

There’s a general mumble of consensus. Spines crack, arms rise into the air, stretching from all around as everyone starts to shuffle out of the room. Sei lingers.

“You didn’t have to stay, Aoba,” he says, spinning around in his chair.

“I told Granny I’d make sure you weren’t straining yourself.” From the corner of his eye, he can see Noiz unabashedly waiting by the door. “C’mon. I’ll walk you home.”

Sei’s eyes flick to Noiz. Noiz stares back impassively. “I think someone’s waiting for you. I’ll call a cab-- but you can walk me to the door.”

Aoba goes pink, and turns around to glare furiously at Noiz. “Fine, we can all leave together.”

Still cradling his cold coffee, Aoba waits for Sei to evacuate his chair and head out before following after him. He tries to telegraphically tell Noiz that he should go on ahead-- but of course, he isn’t psychic, so none of his meaningful stares seem to affect him. Instead, the three of them walk out of Silent Oath in companionable silence. They chat as Sei waits for his taxi, Aoba waving goodbye after him when it arrives and Sei is safely tucked inside.

Only after Sei is gone does Noiz take Aoba by the hand, tugging him down the street.

“You know, normal people offer to walk someone home first before they do it.” But buoyed by the game’s progress, there’s no real reprimand in his words.

Noiz’s face twists into a scowl, and he ducks his head. “Already doing it. I would’ve done it anyway.” No matter what Aoba’s opinion on it was, his tone implies.

“What a good kid,” Aoba teases, swinging their arms. The air is brisk, but Noiz’s hand is warm in his.

“Am I?” Voice low, Noiz squeezes Aoba’s hand. “Should be more careful. Might not leave after I get you home.”

Flushing, Aoba turns his attention to the sidewalk, carefully stepping over the cracks and making sure he avoided any litter. “Who said I’d make you walk back?”

“That an invitation?”

“You--!!”

Aoba hurries on ahead, dragging Noiz by the hand in a self-botched attempt to escape him, his cheeks and ears burning. Behind him, Noiz takes his time in an easy saunter, the low sound of his laughter almost buried beneath the stomp of Aoba’s footsteps. When Noiz reels him in to kiss him full on the mouth, Aoba allows it, tipping his head back like a flower to the sun.

“I can’t believe the game’s already almost done,” Aoba says wistfully, after he’s done being indignant at Noiz and they’re in the elevator heading up to his apartment.

“It’s about time,” Noiz says.

What are you going to do after? is a question that lingers on Aoba’s tongue, but goes unsaid. Instead, he holds his Coil up to his door and turns the handle after it’s unlocked.

“Gonna let me come inside?” asks Noiz, the corners of his mouth upturned.

“...if you’re good,” Aoba says, a burst of courage prompting him, “I’ll let you come inside.”

He’s rewarded by the astonished widening of Noiz’s eyes, the growl his only warning before Noiz pounces on him, pushing them both past the threshold.

Aoba kicks the door shut behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, i was swamped this semester!! hopefully i will have the final chapter up in a more timely manner!! thank you to everyone who's stuck it out with me for so long, i really appreciate it!


End file.
